


Lost Stars (Prick the dark if you need some light)

by Bythoseburningembers



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Joyful, M/M, Multi, Non-Canon Relationship, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Team Voltron Family, ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2019-09-16 12:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16953903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bythoseburningembers/pseuds/Bythoseburningembers
Summary: “T-Takashi?” Adam pivoted on one heel slowly, turning to face them with pure astonishment written over his face. Shiro’s breath got caught in his throat. Adam was still so beautiful.He floundered for words. Then, gracefully, he could only croak; “Hi, Adam.”“Do you even recognize him, commander? Its Takashi Shirogane!  Your old friend!” Elijah cried, eyes bright. He looked between the two, as if expecting them to also break into delighted cackles. Shiro felt rather as if he was going to vomit.“I recognize him,” Adam said. His eyes slid to Shiro’s arm, widened imperceptibly. Shiro flinched. “It’s been a long time, Shiro. I see a lot has changed.”Essentially, Pidge discovered that Adam wasn't killed in the initial attack. He escaped death and apparently he's been leading a rebellion in Japan? Shiro leaves to find him and a new journey unfolds.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since Season 8 of Voltron is fast approaching, I wanted to post this in defiance of whatever joy killing plot-line is going to unfurl next. Because Shiro deserves happiness, GOSH DAMMIT.

“Did they suffer?” Shiro whispered.  

“No, sir,” the director of the rescue and relief efforts assured him. Her large brown eyes shimmered with sympathy in the low light of her office. Shiro couldn’t remember her name. Shyanne? Shailyn? Something like that.

She looked almost as tired as he felt, heavy bags of deep purple lining the underside of her eyes. He had heard good things about her, things like how kind she was and her obvious dedication to her work. Shiro tried to muster the strength to be grateful for that.

He failed.

“Our diagnostics reflect that they died quickly, painlessly. They wouldn’t have even known what was happening,” she said, plucking a small manila folder from a drawer in her desk. She slid it toward Shiro slowly, still holding his gaze. “Here’s an autopsy report, and the serial number for their ashes, if you’d like,” Shiro reached out for the folder with his new prosthetic so she wouldn’t see how his fingers trembled.

“Thank you,” he murmured numbly.

“I am sorry for your loss, Captain Shirogane,” she continued, sincerely. Shiro just nodded. There had been many times in the past where he had dreamed of seeing his grandparents again. He had never quite believed it would happen…

But hope sprung eternal.

His real hand fisted the loose folds of his Garrison dress pants hard enough that he felt his own nails digging into the skin of his thighs. He tried to let the pain ground him. Four days of near unconsciousness, and his entire frame still shook as if weighed down by multiple worlds.

“If I may ask,” the director continued, cautiously, as Shiro gazed at the manila folder with a blankness that disturbed even himself. “How are the Paladins?” Ah. Good. He had been asked about the health of his young friends so often that the answer was routine to him by now. They were even ground, his safe place at this point.

 “Still recovering,” he replied crisply. “Their injuries were… Frightening, but not crippling, thank God,” her shoulders loosened, as if a weight had been taken from her conscious. Shiro willed it back. If she didn’t carry it, that meant the Paladins would have to bear the extra weight on their shoulders and as Shiro had always held, they were just _so young._ It had only been two weeks since the last battle for Earth. Sendak’s forces had been destroyed, and many Galra bases on Earth had been rooted out and were in the process of being destroyed.

Earth had become a safe-haven for refugees of the fallen Voltron Coalition, as well as a port for that rebellion to begin again. There was a lot of rebuilding to do. A lot of bodies to pull from the rubble of broken cities, many courtyards filled with the corpses of those executed by the Galra, either for defiance or _“uselessness.”_

People like his grandparents.

“I’m glad. They’re so young to be heroes. The entire world is worried, I think,” he nodded. The Paladins received perhaps hundreds of get-well cards and thank you notes every day. Shiro did too. He hadn’t had a moment to open any of them. He hadn’t any motivation either. She examined him with astute eyes. “You should rest too, Captain. Take time to grieve and reacclimate to Earth. You’ve been missing a long time,” Shiro resisted the urge to snort. She had no idea just how long he had been _missing._

He stood with surprising ease. “Thank you for your time, ma’am,” he held up the folder. “And for this. It means… A lot,” she gave him a smile that somehow conveyed just how much she doubted his words. That was fine. Shiro was aware of how weak his lies were these days. She accepted his hand and squeezed it.

“Again, I am so sorry for your loss. I… I don’t have the words to thank you for your service, but I hope you know just how much you are valued by the people of Earth. I wish you the best of luck in all things,” Shiro mustered a smile for her kindness, saluted once more.

“I wish you the same.”

As he exited her office, he kept staring at the folder, unable to believe that his grandparent’s entire lives had been… _stripped_ to these few loose pieces of paper and a folder. They had been extinguished from the world like a flame. He couldn’t bear it.

When he stepped outside, he noticed the car immediately, bulkier than a Mars Rover. Matt, older and thus quieter, had insisted on accompanying him whenever he went anywhere. There were still Galra forces on planet, and that meant assassins who would love nothing more than to kill _The Champion_ once and for all.

Shiro had argued with him more than once, claiming that he could protect himself quite easily, but he had seen the broken edges in Matt’s eyes. The younger man had been fighting on the front lines too long, hiding like a rat in the gutters of the universe as he tried to escape the Galra factions searching for him. Matt needed a mission. He, too, wasn’t used to sitting around. Waiting for the world to right itself. Protecting Shiro was perhaps the closest he would ever come to just relaxing while the people of Earth reoriented themselves.  

“So,” he broached when Shiro slid into the passenger seat. He glanced at the manila folder, and his voice choked out. They had seen enough people carrying those around to understand what it meant. Matt’s face fell. “Oh, Shiro,” he whispered.

Shiro couldn’t meet his gaze. He might snap. Or break into tears. He wasn’t sure which but either option was humiliating enough. “My grandparents,” he explained simply. “They were executed. They were too old to work, so,” a shrug. “Useless in Galra eyes,” he had seen that reality scripted into the stories of so many worlds. The young or elderly murdered unless they could fulfill a purpose. On the Balmera, every member could speak to their planet. On Earth, those weakest of them could barely stand. Why _would_ Sendak keep them around?

It occurred to Shiro that perhaps he was going insane, if he could… _understand_ Sendak’s reasoning this way. Matt laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry… To the crematoria?” He asked. Shiro exhaled.

“No. I don’t think I’m ready to… You know.”

“Yeah.”

“I was gone for six years, Matt…. They didn’t even know I was alive. I don’t know if that’s mercy or not.”

“They would be _proud_ of you, Shiro,” Matt swore fervently. He looked as if he were near tears, which was more than Shiro could say for himself. “I damn sure am. Do you want to head back to the Atlas?” He didn’t know, really. At the _Atlas_ were the few remaining pieces of family he had left.

The Paladins had been relocated to the med-bay aboard ship, mainly because it was the most heavily defensible craft on the planet right now. He could rest knowing they wouldn’t be attacked by Galra. Keith had just laughed when he suggested it.

 _“You just want to keep an eye on us, overprotective jerk,”_ he’d claimed affectionately. Shiro hadn’t denied it. He didn’t deny it now. Nor did he refuse the small comfort he might get from returning to the purpose he had kept for five years, to protect the Paladins.

“Sure.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

When he returned to the _Atlas,_ fourteen different people approached him with questions and problems. Shiro had handed Matt the folder.

_“Take that back to my room for me, would you?”_

Then he’d shoved knowledge of his grandparent’s demise to the back of his mind and stepped forward. Ignoring the pitying glare Matt sent his way, Shiro had made his way to the bridge to assume command. The next few hours passed in mechanical comfort. This- taking charge, dishing out orders, inspiring downtrodden people- this was what he knew. This he could handle. Nothing more.

_“Take the MFE’s for one more spin, Griffin. You guys are doing great, but I want to know how far you can push those crafts. Give it all you got. Captain Iverson test short range missiles. Veronica, particle barrier up over plains B5T and B89. That’s not good, it won’t hold for an extended period of time. Let’s run it again people!”_

Preparing for battle was easy, his command flawless. He received word that Keith wanted to see him sometime around his eighteenth hour of standing on the bridge. So immersed in Atlas, he had almost forgotten what could have happened. Then he walked into Keith’s room.

Krolia, Kolivan and Axca were missing. Probably tormenting some poor cadets with training simulations below. Keith was still bound to his bed by a broken pelvis, extreme exhaustion and two fractured kneecaps. He would be confined to bed for a few more months, at least, along with Hunk, Pidge and Lance, who had sustained similar injuries. Shiro knew they all hated it, and fully expected them to try and sneak out of bed when he wasn’t looking.

Keith had the folder. He waved it lightly when Shiro walked it, gesturing for him to close the door. “Matt told us what happened,” he began, forthright as ever. “I already ordered for their ashes to be brought here. For whenever you’re ready.”

Shiro sunk into the chair by Keith’s bed and ran a hand through his hair.  “Thanks,” he sighed.

Keith bowled over the thanks as if he hadn’t even heard. He was staring at Shiro with those large, half-Galran eyes that seemed almost cat-like. Or maybe it was just because Keith could read him so well. “Are you ok?” He demanded.

Shiro arched a brow at him. Keith nodded. “Yeah, I thought so. Shiro, you shouldn’t even be up right now. Go lay down. Take a minute to breathe and…” Shiro’s raised brow didn’t abate, and Keith groaned. “Iverson told me about Adam, too. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“There wasn’t time,” Shiro replied honestly. “The Earth was in danger.”

“We stopped to get you a new arm, didn’t we? I don’t care who or what is in danger, Shiro, we’re still family. We are still each other’s priority, understood?” he was giving Shiro that _commander-and-chief_ look and tone again. It pulled a smile from Shiro. There weren’t words for how proud he was of _all_ the Paladin’s, but Keith especially made him glow.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, a little amused.

Keith glared, then slapped his bandaged hands down. “I didn’t call you here to lecture you, damn it!”

“You’re getting really good at it.”

“Your life majorly sucks right now. I think Lance called it unquantified suck. The others wanted to be in here too, you know, but I said they shouldn’t crowd you,” he was studying him intently. “Was that the right call?”

Shiro chuckled brokenly. “Honestly? You guys are the only reason I’m still standing right now,” Keith would know what that meant. His eyes softened.

“Ah, _ani_ ,” he breathed. Shiro felt a lump grow in his throat. He quickly snapped his head to the side, looking anywhere but at Keith’s face. He had begun calling Shiro that recently. Where he had learned it, Shiro didn’t know, but the Japanese word for _big brother_ never ceased to make his heart throb.

Keith had never been very expressive in terms of affection or emotion. Theirs was a relationship built on mutual adventure seeking and grim humor, but that fight with his clone had… _Shifted_ something in Keith. He was open about his protectiveness now, his deep loyalty and admiration for Shiro that bordered on hero-worship and slipped into brotherly fondness.

“I always kind of suspected, you know?” he whispered. “When I was first captured, I never _dreamed_ I’d make it back to Earth, and even if I did… They were _old_ Keith. They didn’t have too much longer. I used to joke about it, that I would probably pass around the same time as they did, so at least we could go together. I guess I prepared myself to come back and find out they were gone.”

“You shouldn’t have had too,” Keith replied, reaching out to grab his real hand. Shiro squeezed.

“What can I say?” He looked up, felt the first tear streak own his cheek, hot and shivering. “Maybe some people just aren’t meant to be happy,” Keith let out a noise as if someone had just socked him in the gut.

“Don’t, Shiro. Don’t say that,” he pleaded. Shiro sighed heavily and leveled himself to his feet, swiped at the tears with an intense anger.

“I should get back to work,” he began, voice cracking. Keith’s grip on his hand tightened so that it was almost painful. “I’m _fine,_ Keith. I just need time, and a distraction.”

“Shiro, don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself. I’ve been where you are, ok? You shouldn’t be alone,” If there was anyone in this world Shiro was grateful for, it was Keith. He bent down to press his forehead to Keith’s, cradle the back of his head gently. Keith accepted the touch, gripping the base of his neck.

For a moment, neither spoke. They just breathed together, two Paladins chosen by the Black Lion, the leaders of Voltron. Now two orphans made blood by battle and determination. Finally, Shiro pressed a kiss to Keith’s temple and reclaimed his hand from his grip.

“Love you,” he whispered. “I’ll come visit you and the others again later.”

“Shiro…”

It was still his job to protect them. Even if they had survived an intergalactic war without him perfectly well for several months. Even if he felt as if he were about to crack open at the seams. Even though he could feel, with painful intensity, that his time with the Paladins was coming to an end and he would miss them _so damn much._ Even as the Earth crawled toward another war and he was expected to lead them to a new frontier… Alone.

“I’ll be fine,” he lied again, before he rounded the corner and vanished into the heart of his new post. As the head of _Atlas._

* * *

 

Sam cornered him next, summoning him down to the engine room. The deck was empty, only Sam sat at his terminal, squinting at the screen when Shiro arrived.

“Sam? Is everything…?” The next moment he was enveloped in a spine-snapping hug.

“I’m so sorry, Shiro,” he whispered into his ear, his scrawny arms nearly crushing his windpipe. He returned the embrace awkwardly.  

A few years ago, when they had first embarked on Kerberos, he never would have contemplated this. He had known Sam before, of course. The Kerberos mission required hours and hours of training. They had been comrades, if not friends, but getting captured together fostered a bond deeper than Shiro had ever known.

The fact that they both survived helped too.

“I know they’d be _so_ proud of you, son,” Sam told him quietly.

A shiver wracked his spine. “They didn’t even know I was alive,” Shiro replied. Sam gently pushed him back by the shoulders. His dark eyes were large and regretful in the vivid lights of the engine deck. “I don’t know if that would make this better or worse, but… I wish I could have at least told them goodbye.” _I should have been here to protect them_ went unspoken.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “It’s possible they did,” he murmured. Shiro scowled.

“What do you…?”

“I’m sorry, Shiro, I should have told you this earlier. When I first arrived back here in the Garrison, I was put under house arrest,” Shiro nodded.

Colleen had described the situation in depth, bitterness clear in her voice. “I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone beyond the Garrison, but I did tell Adam what happened to you. He could have told your grandparents, you know, before,” Before he went on his last mission. Shiro’s breath got caught in his throat, hope and horror lodged in his chest.

“You _did?_ I thought you weren’t supposed to be seen by anyone who didn’t have top clearance?” He demanded. Sam gave a mild half shrug, shoving his hands into his pockets in a clear sign of indifference.

“True. Admiral Sanda was very… _strict_ on that point. However, you saved my son’s life, Shiro. I figured I owed it to you to at least tell _someone,_ and Adam was on the grounds. Colleen had kept in touch with him over the years, so it wasn’t difficult to find him and tell him the barest details. He could have told your grandparents. I don’t know if that helps but…”

“It does,” Shiro interrupted, squeezing Sam’s arm. If Adam had known he was alive, Shiro had no doubt he’d relayed the message, even though they had separated before Kerberos. Adam had always been his better half, the best man Shiro knew. Which meant that maybe his grandparents could have at least died with _hope,_ knowing that Shiro was out there, still living the morals they had taught him. “Thank you, Sam.”

Sam’s answering grin was brittle. “You should rest, Shiro. We can handle things here without you for a few hours,” he tried. Shiro wondered if Keith and the other Paladins had asked for his help in intervening, then quickly decided it must have been the case. Sam was a good friend, but Shiro detected _fatherly worry_ in his tone now. It was appreciated, but unfounded.

Shiro didn’t deserve that regard. 

He shook his head, gently. “No.”

“Shiro…”

“Everyone I loved is gone, Sam,” he interrupted curtly. “All I have now is my work. If I’m going to get past this, if I’m going to honor them, it will be through _Atlas._ I… I just can’t stop now,” Sam looked for a moment as if he were about to cry. Then he just deflated, the hand on Shiro’s shoulders squeezing impossibly hard.

“I know it looks bleak,” he told him. “Just know that you are part of my family, Takashi. You still have people who love you,” Shiro nodded, not saying his thoughts aloud. The time was coming when they would all go their separate ways.

Maybe not Sam and Shiro, Sam was still _Atlas’s_ engineer, but there were dozens of people who could take that role. He doubted Hunk or Lance ever wanted to leave their families again. Shiro did not begrudge them that right. He wanted _peace_ for them. He had spent years yearning for the opportunity to end the Galra Empire so they could return home.

Pidge and Matt wanted to relocate to Olkarion with their mother; and begin a human-Olkari initiative on planet. It would be incredible, Shiro knew. Keith and Krolia had already begun talks about rebuilding the Blade of Marmora. Allura, Coran and Romelle wanted to search the universe for any surviving Alteans.

The universe was quieter than it had ever been, and while there was still a need for heroes, Voltron itself was probably unnecessary.

Not while they had an Atlas to take Voltron’s place.

The end was coming. He would face it alone. “I know, Sam. Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

That night, he collapsed into bed. Atlas hummed around him, cradled his conscious is the same way Black had. He could still feel her too, farther off in one of the main hangars. She purred something comforting his way.

Crew moved about quietly, but he could feel them through his connection with Atlas. Like tiny ants skittering on his arms. It was… Disarming.

Shiro was used to sleeping in worse conditions. He flipped unto his back, faced the bottom of his small bunk in the wall. He had refused the Captain’s quarters, granting that space to Colleen and Sam for now. They needed- and deserved it- more than he did. Shiro fisted his hands in his blankets, shivering from a cold that never seemed to leave his bones.

He was exhausted, and sometimes slipped in and out of a daze at random. Apparently assembling and helping to power Atlas drained massive amounts of quintessence. Allura likened it to healing the Balmera, an enormous feat of concentration and will. He only knew it left him cold.

Or was that death, finally sinking its fingers into him?

Shiro didn’t know. He stared at the ceiling, felt the hot tears well in his eyes. Black whimpered somewhere far away in response to his pain.

_Oh, my poor Paladin._

He wasn’t her Paladin anymore, even as she refused to disconnect from him completely. Not that he supposed they could disconnect now. He had been trapped in Black’s conscious for months. Theirs was a bond unable to snap or break or be corrupted. He was grateful for her, even as he shoved her wet nuzzling comfort away.

Atlas was restless, demanding action, shoving at him like an insistent child.

_Get up. Get up. What’s wrong with you?_

Was he a parent or a child? He didn’t know. He felt cold. And tired. And tears were slipping down his face again, the sorrow building in his chest like hot air that rose higher, higher…

The first sob broke past his lips quietly. He still covered his mouth with his prosthetic, bit his lip to muffle the noise. Atlas nudged him again.

_Get up. Get up._

_I can’t._

_What’s wrong with you?_

Shiro scoffed. _My life is full of unquantifiable suck right now, Atlas._

Confusion. Worry. Black whimpered and Shiro turned onto his side, tried to shove them both away because it was too much right now. He didn’t want to be reminded of all he had gained. The honors bestowed upon him, the responsibility sitting heavy in his chest, how much Earth valued him or how much Black believed him to be worthy. The people he had valued were _dead._ He wasn’t worthy. He was alone _._ Black finally retreated. Atlas gave him another rude jolt, then slunk away.

_Get up. Get up. What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you happy?_

Shiro curled as the question left him absolutely _gutted._ He squeezed a pillow close to his chest, biting into it as he wept for his grandparents and Adam. He wept because Zarkon had killed him and Haggar had cloned him to hurt his friends. He wept because he had been forced to fight and tortured and disrespected and whipped and all he had ever wanted was to see Kerberos.

He wept because he _hated_ Kerberos now.

_“What can I say? Maybe some people aren’t meant to be happy.”_


	2. Pidge the favored child

“Shiro. C’mon, just sneak me one of Coran’s hydrospanners. Just one. _Please,_ Shiro,” Pidge begged him two days later. Shiro snorted as he waltzed into her room, granting Sam and Colleen a weak smile of greeting as he passed. They both looked up from their own note pads, smiles weary but strong.

He had received visits from more than a few people since news had spread about the folder. Most of the crew had no idea who had died; but had given him their condolences anyway.

Each of the Paladins had sought him out separately, or else summoned him with the belligerent protectiveness of younger siblings. He had received a tight hug from Hunk, warm smiles and sympathetic silence from Allura and Coran, further lectures on self-care from Lance and Pidge had demanded he stay by her side while she re-read the entire Lord of the Rings saga. He’d fallen asleep quickly.

“I don’t know where Coran hides those things,” he said, immediately. Partly because it was true. Coran had his own work space aboard _Atlas_ that he tended to protect with jealous fury. Yet a larger part of him also wanted to keep himself out of whatever sibling rivalry thing was happening here.

Matt, sitting next to his sister’s bed and no doubt tormenting her with news of all the technological break-through’s happening aboard ship, leaned back and grinned wolfishly. “Besides, even if he did know, I already forbade Shiro from aiding your wickedness,” he sang. Pidge smashed her face into the pillow, groaning.

“I need to be on that research team!” She cried. “I have to know what kind of energy source that robeast used! Mom!”

“Pidge, you’re already helping Krolia and Veronica coordinate a new rebellion,” Colleen pointed out, with an infinite patience that Shiro admired.  “You’re doing enough.”

“The technology, mom! The engineering! It’s all happening without me!”

“I promise you can be a huge part of perfecting it when you’re healed, sweetie,” Sam assured her.

“Dad, I have fought in a war for four and a half years now. I have done harder things with worse injuries!” She continued. Shiro’s heart panged at the truth in that statement. He saw Colleen and Sam cringe, faces paling as limitless scenarios of what those injuries had been rushed through their minds.

“Yes,” Matt agreed, with a grave sort of reason. “However, the only way we could convince Lance not to get up and help was by saying that if he did it, then you would get up before you were ready. And the only way we could convince you was to…”

Pidge narrowed her eyes at her family, betrayed. “You told me if I got up, then Hunk would, then he’d rebreak his leg!” She cried.

“Exactly. And we told Hunk that…”

Shiro couldn’t help but smile. It didn’t escape his attention that Matt and Sam were watching him carefully over the ridge of their glasses, as if waiting for him to demonstrate some outward sign of distress. “Don’t worry Pidge. They did it to me too. I think they’ve found our weakness,” he said.

“Break the system Shiro. Free us all from this oppression,” Pidge drawled, with utmost sarcasm. Colleen gave her a daughter a startled look, which seemed to happen for all the Paladin’s parents these days. As if they couldn’t quite reconcile their sweet, law-abiding babies with the cynical warriors who had come back.

“Nah. I kind of like the quiet,” Pidge spluttered indignantly. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Just like the last time you came to check on me, like, twenty minutes ago,” she replied. Shiro had to admit he had probably been hovering lately. However, it was just like he had told Keith, the Paladins were the only family he had left, his primary objective. He had to protect them.

Suddenly, Sam stiffened in his chair, sent Shiro an evaluating look. “Pidge, your special program brought back results,” he called quietly. Pidge was instantly leaning over the side of her bed, carefully accepted the pad her mother handed to her. Shiro perked up.

“Pidge you’re supposed to be resting,” he scolded lightly.

“ _Thank you,_ Shiro!” Colleen cried.

“Alright, alright, before you two start your own Space mom and dad coalition… This is a full list of the rebellions!”

“It is?” he asked. They had been working on that since Voltron arrived, trying to catalogue and save the small rebellions that had sprung up after the Galra invaded. Most had been found and killed, but the few that remained would be essential.

“Yes,” Pidge answered, squinting at the screen. Her eyes widened momentarily, but Shiro caught it.

“What?”

Pidge, Matt and Sam exchanged a look. Sam nodded. “Alright,” Pidge began, looking up. She inhaled a deep breath, as if steeling herself to deliver bad news. Shiro’s gut clenched. Were there less rebellions than they had assumed? Had some of them been captured or killed since Voltron had appeared? “I don’t know how to… Ok. I found Adam,” Shiro blinked.

His chest clenched hard enough to steal his breath. Still, he managed to speak. “His body?”

“No!” Pidge cried, horrified. “No, Shiro, I would never do that to you. We sent out a directive… Er, last week? That any rebel leaders identify themselves. You know, in case any Galra picked up the chatter and tried to send back an affirmative so they could ambush our teams. Most people just sent pictures of themselves. This came in yesterday.”

She flipped the screen so it was facing him. Shiro’s knees nearly buckled.

It was him, albeit only a face shot. Bruised, his chocolate hair streaked with dirt and flecks of ash, his face gaunt and eyes bloodshot, but he was there. Alive. Smiling in that slight, sarcastic way of his that used to be so _irritating,_ genuine and beautiful.

Shiro barely heard Sam’s voice over the blood rushing in his ears. “Apparently, Adam’s plane wasn’t vaporized by Sendak’s beams. His wing was nicked, and he crashed a few hundred miles away, in the mountains, and escaped. He's been leading one of the last free strongholds on Earth, holding over two thousand refugees. He’s fought the Galra tooth and nail for three years now.”

Of course he had. Because Adam abhorred being told what to do in any capacity, much less having his planet over run by violent warmongers. Shiro accepted the pad, hands trembling. “I… I don’t…. Where is he?” Pidge pointed at some numbers at the bottom of the screen.

“His coordinates. Don’t ask me how or why, but he somehow made it to Japan? Takao Mountain ranges, roughly?” Their first few dates had been in Tokyo, while both Shiro and Adam had been testing new Garrison jets.  

Matt was there suddenly, leaning over Shiro’s shoulder while also hooking a hand under his elbow. Maybe he was holding him up. Shiro couldn’t tell anymore. “Pretty badass,” he whistled.

Shiro’s stomach roiled nauseously. The cold numbness that had plagued his bones for weeks now was now a rushing storm of hot blood in his ears and head. He felt as if he were about to implode. “Pidge… I don’t even… Have you been working on this the entire time?”

“Duh,” Pidge snorted, grinning. “Though, I’ve got to say it was a team effort. Keith’s got a report that Adam’s plane had been found. So Lance asked Veronica to dig around. Then Hunk and I derived a program to find his name or picture when they all were sent in,” Pidge finished, satisfied. Shiro was snapped back into reality. He sunk into Matt’s vacated seat, fingers digging into the sides of his pad desperately.

 _Six years. I haven’t seen him for six years._ The picture was a clear indication of what he had missed. Adam had somehow grown a beard, its dark chocolate tangles clinging to his chin and upper neck like carpet.

His square glasses were dusty and cracked in the left corner. Behind the frames, his eyes were somehow deeper, filled with a little more darkness. Yet the quirk of his mouth was still so Adam. Shiro’s heart throbbed. But…

“I can’t just leave,” he pointed out weakly. Pidge stared at him as if he had grown a second head. Then, she just rolled her eyes and looked to her father.

“Would you… _Handle_ this please?” She groaned, waving a hand in Shiro’s direction.

Sam was already coming forward. He knelt in front of Shiro, took his hands into his sincerely. “ _Yes,_ you can,” he argued, more passionate than Shiro had ever seen him. “We can manage things here, Shiro. I’ll command the bridge with Coran and Iverson for however long you need. Matt can handle the Coalition, and we’ve got the Paladins. I promise, nothing will happen while you’re away that we can’t handle.”

_You can’t promise that. **No one** can promise me that…_

 “Go already!” Matt finished, clapping him on the shoulder. Shiro knew it was supposed to be a supportive gesture, but it only vibrated the shock inside him. Shiro looked down, stared hard at the coordinates. _Adam is alive. He’s alive._

_He’s been fighting a war for three years._

Shiro knew without doubt how that could affect someone’s psyche. How long had he lived with PTSD, after all? War fundamentally _changed_ people. Would Adam even recognize him? Would they even get along anymore?

Fear suddenly unfolded in his chest, searing like open flames. Shiro opened his mouth, mind spinning with all the ways this could go wrong, the responsibilities he had to _Atlas,_ the fact that Adam had left him six years ago and told him he wouldn’t wait. If Shiro found him, and he had moved on, what would that even…

_He’s alive._

It was more than he had ever dreamed. He turned around to face the others, all of whom were watching him with wide grins. “I can’t just abandon you guys,” he mumbled.

“Oh, Shiro! Just leave!” Pidge yelled, throwing up her hands.

Then Colleen was standing over him. She set firm hands on his shoulders, brown eyes soft and compassionate. “Takashi,” she began. “You saved my son’s life. You brought my daughter back to me, and for that I will forever be grateful. The fight isn’t done yet, but _the war is over,_ sweetheart. You can stand down, be happy for a few days,” Shiro opened his mouth. Colleen pressed a gentle finger to his lips.

“Even if it doesn’t work out like you hope, we will _all be here_. Waiting for you. You aren’t abandoning anyone. Your orders are to find that man and see what bits of your old self you can scavenge. Its time you go home, soldier,” Shiro’s mouth snapped closed. Colleen’s eyes were filled with nothing but warmth and honesty.

_Home. I can go home now._

He released a shaking breath. “Thank you,” he breathed, squeezing her arm. Colleen just nodded and moved aside so he could stand, pad gripped tight between his fingers. He dashed over to ruffle Pidge’s hair. “You’re my favorite Pidge. You’ve always been my favorite,” he told her, with all the gratitude and affection he could muster.

Pidge giggled and swatted his hands away. “I know,” she agreed. She squeezed Shiro’s hand in a surprisingly strong grip. “Thanks, Shiro… For everything. Now go, go!” She pushed him lightly toward the door, laughing. He obeyed this time, striding from the room, heart pounding.

He was outside Keith’s door before he could think about it. “He’s alive!” He blurted. Keith looked up from the blade Krolia was showing him, raised a befuddled eyebrow. Lance and Allura, both sitting in wheelchairs on either side of Keith’s bed, also blinked up at him confusedly. Krolia scowled.

“Shiro, aren’t you supposed to be…?”

“Who’s alive?” Keith interrupted. Shiro held up the pad.

“Adam. Pidge found him. He’s… Alive. In Japan,” Keith inhaled a sharp breath, something like relief and surprise warring in his eyes. Then he grinned, exposing a row of slightly pointed teeth. His Galra features had begun manifesting more and more these days. Krolia joked that he may start growing a tail eventually.

“Take Black,” he ordered.

Ah, maybe that was what he had wanted to say. Or perhaps he had wanted Keith to talk him out of leaving. “I can’t just _take_ …”

“Pilot the lion, Shiro. She still responds to you.” Well, he knew that. The Black Lion would probably always respond to him. Their bond was deep.

“What about Voltron?”

“We have _The Atlas_ ,” Lance pointed out, watching him with impish eyes.  Shiro remembered that they had all known about this for an entire _week_ and somehow kept it from him.

“Which only I can control,” Shiro sighed. Allura waved a dismissive hand.

“I’m sure Coran and I could figure it out if need be,” she assured him, and Shiro hated that he trusted her word. He hated how tempting this idea was to him. Krolia was glancing between the two parties as if she could find the answers through sight. At last, she gave up, shook her head and sighed.

“If you’re worried about these five,” she jabbed a thumb to indicate the younger Paladins. “Don’t be. I, the other mothers and Coran have already begun planning out their physical therapy and dietary needs,” Keith paled.

“You _what?!”_ He screeched. Lance tutted sadly.

“I knew this would happen,” he muttered.

Allura spluttered in mock offense. “ _Coran_ was part of this!?”

“They’ll be well-tended, and if anything happens, we _will_ contact you,” Krolia continued, with less compassion that Colleen but no less insistence. Shiro met her eyes, and something like understanding passed between them. His shoulders relaxed. He knew Krolia was practically incapable of going back on her word. She would look after them while he was gone.

Sam, Veronica and Iverson could handle _The Atlas._ Matt and Coran were already experienced in matters of the Coalition. Nevertheless…. “I’ll only be gone a few days,” he promised.

Lance gave him an indulgent smile. He seemed to do that a lot. Shiro wondered when his authority had died away. “We know, space dad,” he hummed.

“You guys listen to Krolia.”

“Why does she get to be in charge!?”

“What if he hates me?” Shiro blurted. The others stopped, stared at him for a moment. Lance spoke first.

“What? How could he hate you? You’re _awesome!”_ He cried.

Keith’s eyes hardened. “If he hates you, I’ll kill him.”

That wasn’t helpful. Allura chuckled softly. “Shiro, you won’t know until you go speak to him, now will you?” she made a shooing motion with her hands. “Now go. Speak. Find answers,” Allura had always seemed older than her years, which wasn’t surprising considering the Cryosleep and royalty and… He nodded.

“Alright.” In the next second, he was gone.


	3. Reunion

Mt. Takao had been a tourist destination before the invasion.

Shiro remembered. He’d been eight when his grandparents scrapped enough money together to take him. He only had vague flashes of memory. He remembered how the sloping hills had seemed like waves to him, all rolling into one another seamlessly, the thick green grass like carpets. He recalled how the countryside had seethed burnt orange from the tree leaves.

Shiro closed his eyes as Black probed at his mind curiously. He could almost hear the rhythmic rumble of the bullet-trains. Their tracks had wrapped around the slopes and mountains like ivy clinging to the neck of a tree, ferrying passengers through the countryside. His skin prickled.

There had been waterfalls, undestroyed by the third world war. Gentle spray against his cheek as he had leaned over to watch the water cascade into a ravine. There had been… a Temple here once? Right after Adam’s proposal, when he had been giddied with joy, he had contemplated marrying Adam in these mountains.

_“You think we could even organize a wedding like that?”_ Adam had laughed when he mentioned it one night. _“Kashi, I can barely tolerate my students, much less a wedding planner or a traveling agent.”_

_“I can handle it!”_

_“With what time, sir face of the Galaxy Garrison? You’re too busy flying planes! No, babe, the only people we need are my parents, your grandparents and Keith. Why do we need a mountain?”_

The mountain was destroyed.

It was if the Galra had set it aflame tree by tree and brush by brush. From the air, Shiro could see the dismantled train tracks, jutting from the ground like iron tusks. Every so often, past the light drizzle beginning to fall, blackened husks wobbled in the form of buildings and information centers.

 The once gorgeous trees were now mere toothpicks of blackened ash on the ground. His heart thumped in his throat. He had seen worse conditions on hundreds of worlds, but this was Earth. This was Takao, the mountain he had known as full of color and life now decimated. Shiro huffed a sigh, felt Black press close against his conscious like a cat rubbing against his shins.

“I know,” he murmured. “We got here as soon as we could. We saved as many as we could,” it was a weak mantra, but one he was trying to beat into the heads of the other Paladins as they received death tolls every day. How had anyone survived up here, much less built a rebel stronghold?

_Only you, Adam._

He glanced at the coordinates blinking at him from the left screen. A few more miles. He tried to exhale the horrible emptiness in his stomach. What was he even going to _say?_

_Hi, Adam. How are you? Please pay no attention to the floating robotic arm. Or the giant black alien warcraft. Um… I’m alive. Weird, huh?_

Shiro groaned aloud. He had been tempted to turn back so many times already. The only reason he hadn’t was because he could imagine the Paladin’s disappointed looks, particularly Hunk. If Hunk was disappointed, then all was lost and Shiro didn’t want to be the first to receive one back on Earth.

Then, there was what Colleen had said.  

_“…Your orders are to find that man and see what bits of your old self you can scavenge. Its time you go home, soldier.”_

He only had a few days’ worth of clothes. Right now, he was wearing his Garrison supplied officer’s suit. It had been Lance’s idea to spruce them up with colors.

_“I think we can all agree we aren’t just Garrison cadets or officers anymore. We’re a little… More? Yeah.”_

Yes, more. Even if Adam refused to have anything to do with him, he could still be of some use to the Rebels as Captain Shirogane. _Or is it because you wanted to look like the man Adam knew?_ A treacherous voice whispered in his head.

Shiro shoved it away. Like Lance said, he wasn’t that man anymore, nowhere close. He also wasn’t the same little boy who had gawped at the beauty of the forests and waterfalls once rampart on these mountains. _I’m a mutilated toy,_ he thought glancing at his metal arm, floating a few inches from his elbow. _A broken soldier. No amount of finery can change that now_. Sighing, he glanced at the dashboard. A red dot blinked in front of him. He had arrived.

“Well, here goes nothing.”

 

_Later:_

  “I’m impressed with your facility,” Shiro admitted bluntly, an hour later, scanning the muddied grounds of the Rebel compound. His driver, a friendly, pot-bellied man with skin the color of dark coffee, let out a hoarse cackle. When he grinned, Shiro saw the top row of his mouth was enshrined with gold teeth.

“Ah, we’re much obliged, Captain. I’m sure it’s not as nice as some of those alien worlds you’ve seen,” Elijah replied jovially. He had a thick Tennessee accent that Shiro found somewhat soothing. He had been the one to greet Shiro when he stepped out of the Black Lion, offering to drive him across the base to their headquarters. That was where he would find Adam, or ‘the commander,’ as he was called here.

 The Rebel base was a sprawling arrangement of loose shacks and half erected buildings, brick watchtowers and metal domes, probably spanning a good mile in every direction. On the outskirts of the buildings, missile silos were packed in a tight ring surrounding the compound. Apparently, they were adept at shooting down whatever ship came within range. A temporary but effective survival tactic.

It was also home to the last remnants of Mt. Takao.

Inside the ring of protective missiles, the forest still grew. Orange blossom trees flowered between the armored trucks. Grass was trampled but alive, vines twisting around the shacks like the fingers of a lover. It was beautiful.

Shiro glanced up as they neared the largest structure so far. It reminded him vaguely of the crystal towers on the Balmera, all sturdy base and pointed tip. “Our communications hub,” Elijah explained. “Also, where the commander works. There’s an underground bunker, too. You’ll see,” Shiro nodded. “So, you and Adam were friends at the Garrison?” Shiro smiled bitterly.

He hadn’t expected Adam to have mentioned him. After all, it had taken nearly two years before Shiro was even capable of saying his name aloud, and he’d been transferred to another body before he finally told the Paladins about his ex-fiancé. Still, he had hoped…

“That’s right,” he choked out. “When I got back to Earth, I was told he’d died in the initial invasion. Finding out that the opposite is true was… A surprise. I had to see him,” a likely and popular story for returning soldiers. Elijah grunted as the truck rolled to a halt and scratched the thinning patches of grayed hairs atop his head.

Elijah noticed him staring as they stepped from the armored vehicle. “Ha ha! You didn’t suppose this war was gonna be won by a bunch of youngsters, did’jya?” He reached into the car and retrieved an assault rifle, which he then flung over one shoulder as easily as if it had been a sack of potatoes.

 Shiro tried not to let himself think of how often he’d seen Lance or Hunk do the same with their bayards, their grip on automatic killing weapons refined over years of use.

He forced a smile. “No, sir.”

“That’s what I _thought._ I knew you looked like a wise one, Captain Shirogane. I suspect the Commander probably saw your landing. He’ll be up in communications. I’ll show you,” he offered. Shiro nodded gratefully. He hardly wanted to happen upon Adam in the labyrinthine hallways of this compound. “So, tell me something about space, Captain. What do the stars look like in another galaxy?”

It was an innocuous subject, better than discussing his ex-fiancé. Soon Shiro found himself trying to describe the stunning rock formations and lava beds and dust clouds of space and various planets to an eager audience. The pit of nervousness in his stomach unclenched.

“You’re telling me that there’s a planet that’s _living_? As in, it’s an animal and the people live on its back like fleas?”

“Well, maybe not exactly like that but… Yeah. Kinda.”

“Fuckin’ Hell.”

Shiro chuckled softly. “That was my first impression, yes,” he agreed. Elijah chortled, his eyes aglow with a childish delight as they approached metal doors. Elijah pressed his hand to the identification slot nearby. They slid open.

“Elijah?” Shiro’s heart skipped a beat. It was deeper, a bit gruffer and more clipped, but he would recognize that voice anywhere. His eyes were drawn to the spot of the voice’s origin.

The ground fell from beneath him, the same as it had the day Adam had slowly lowered himself to one knee, grinning widely. It took every muscle inside him not to run over.

Adam stood at the large windows across the room, hands digging into the console as he strained to see outside. He wasn’t facing them, but Shiro could still see the dirt stained metal of a prosthetic arm. His right arm, from elbow, was gone, replaced by a reddish metal, obviously old and dented in a few places. “Is that _Voltron_ parked outside our compound?”

Shiro opened his mouth several times, but each the breath only left in a painful whoosh. He succeeded the fourth try. “Not exactly. It’s just one piece of Voltron. The Black lion. There are five parts,” Adam’s shoulders stiffened.

Elijah burst into delighted laughter, slapping his knees. “Well, I’ll be!” He cried.

“T-Takashi?” Adam pivoted on one heel slowly, turning to face them with pure astonishment written over his face. Shiro’s breath got caught in his throat. He had shaved the beard (Thank God) and now he was wearing his glasses again, the square spectacles sitting pert on his nose. He was still beautiful.

Shiro floundered for words. Then, gracefully, he could only croak; “Hi, Adam.”

“Do you even recognize him, commander? Its Takashi Shirogane!  Your old friend!” Elijah cried, eyes bright. He looked between the two, as if expecting them to also break into delighted cackles. Shiro felt rather as if he was going to vomit.

“I recognize him,” Adam said, emotionlessly. His eyes slid to Shiro’s arm, widened imperceptibly. Shiro flinched. “It’s been a long time, Shiro. I see a lot has changed.”

“It has,” Shiro agreed, his eyes also darting to Adam’s right arm. He saw the thick fingers twitch.

“Is that…” Adam hesitated, before gesturing at the windows with his real arm, and the lion beyond. “Are you one of the Knights of Voltron?”

“Paladins,” he corrected automatically. “And yes, I was. I can still pilot The Black Lion, but I don’t do it as much. Keith is in charge now.”

“Keith? As in the kid who used to follow you around like a duckling? _That_ _Keith_?”

Shiro had to smile at the parallel. “Yeah,” he breathed. Shiro jumped as a calloused hand clapped him on the shoulder from behind.

“I’ll go collect the rest of the leaders for your debrief, Captain Shirogane,” Elijah volunteered “Ya’ll two catch up. I’ll be back,” then, whistling as if this was the best day of his life, Elijah swiveled on a heel and left without another word. Then it was just him and Adam. They stared at each other from opposite sides of the room. Shiro itched to run to him, to take him into his arms…

He didn’t move. Adam was staring at him with wide eyes behind the cracked lenses of his glasses, mouth slightly agape. “I…I saw you on the news,” he blurted. “I saw you give your speech after the Galra were defeated. We don’t get a lot out here, but… I saw you. Even though Sam told me you were alive, I-I could barely believe it was true,” Shiro knew the feeling.

He felt as if his soul had left his body and was now standing somewhere beyond him, gawping at Adam like an idiot. He was half tempted to try clenching his hands just to see if they responded. Perhaps he was actually comatose, and this was all some wild hallucination while he waited for the blood to drain from his body.

“When I returned, Iverson showed me a memorial wall,” Shiro tried to gulp, but his mouth suddenly felt as if it were full of cotton. “You…You’re on it. Most people think you’re dead,” something like comprehension passed across Adam’s face, shifting into several emotions before settling on resignation.

He nodded sadly. “Yeah, I imagined that was the case. It was a close call, a few times,” and why did those words make Shiro weak in the knees? Adam had been fighting a war. _Of course_ he had been near death a few times. “How did you find me?”

“I didn’t. Pidge found you.”

“ _What_ found me?” Shiro shuffled in place awkwardly.

“Pidge. She’s Sam Holt’s daughter.”

“Her name is _Pidge?”_

“Katie. She goes by Pidge. She’s a Paladin of Voltron. She pilots the Green Lion.”

Adam cocked his head, making his glasses tilt precariously on the edge of his nose. Shiro could have smiled. Adam always did that whenever he was doubting something someone said. “Isn’t she, like, fourteen?”

“She just turned seventeen,” Shiro corrected defensively.

Adam was staring at him as if he had grown a second head. “So she’s a kid.”

“They all are,” he whispered.

“Takashi,” Adam shook his head slowly. “What the Hell has _happened_ to you? Sam said you were abducted by the Galra years ago, and you were fighting them, but… This? _Voltron?”_ His voice cracked. Shiro took a hurried step forward.

“I know. I’m sorry, Adam, but its… It’s a long story. I’ll go over some of it in the briefing. I just… When I found out you survived, I had to see you,” he let his hands drop to his sides uselessly. “I’m sorry.”

_For everything._

Adam bit his bottom lip. “Can… Can I touch you, Kashi? Please. I… I feel like this is a dream,” The world spun as his soul _snapped_ back into his body. He wobbled on his feet; but nodded quickly. Adam stumbled forward a few steps, gaze locked onto his as if pulled by an invisible force. When he was close enough, he reached out and pressed a hand to Shiro’s left shoulder.

In his peripheral, Shiro caught sight of swirling letters tattooed on the inside of Adam’s wrist, partially covered by his sleeve. It was a name. _Omar._

Shiro closed his eyes as a deep shudder wracked through him. When he looked up again, Adam’s eyes were feverish. His breath came in sharp pants as his hands lightly cupped Shiro’s cheek, slipped across the deep scar carving his nose in two, down his shoulders, pressing against his chest, lightly tracing over the nub of flesh before his Galra arm. A tear curved down Adam’s face. Shiro reached up instinctively to swipe it away.

“Hi, Adam,” he repeated like an idiot.

“Takashi,” said person whispered, and the pure… _relief_ in his voice broke the last of Shiro’s inhibitions. He wrenched Adam into an embrace, wrapping his arms around broad shoulders.

His hand trembled as he fisted handfuls of Adam’s shirt, and stuffed his nose into his shoulder. He smelled like Adam always had. Sweat and wind and a little bit of engine oil. After a moment, Adam’s hands came up slowly, wrapped around his waist. Shiro let out a wet sob into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Adam,” he bit out. “I’m so sorry.”

Adam shook his head where it was pressed to Shiro’s throat. “Thank God you’re safe,” he replied in a wavering voice. “Thank _God._ I’ve lived every minute wondering if…” His voice cracked into oblivion. They fell into silence, squeezing each other so tightly Shiro suspected he might have a cracked rib when it was over.

He never wanted it to end.

At length, Adam pulled away. Shiro missed the warmth. “I… I don’t even know…” Adam waved his hands as if trying to ward off angry birds circling his head. “So you were kidnapped by aliens on Kerberos.”

“Yes.”

“And… You escaped, made it back, were saved by some Garrison cadets and then went _back_ out into space to fight the Galra _again?”_ It did sound insane, now that Shiro heard it aloud. He stepped back again, suddenly self-conscious.

“I’ll explain more later. Sam said you were shot down in the initial attack?”

“Yeah. I’m the only person in my team who survived,” Shiro’s eyes were drawn to the prosthetic.

“You were wounded,” he predicted. Adam rubbed his prosthetic arm in blatant discomfort. His eyes fell.

“Yeah, this one was pretty mangled, and infected. By the time I got help, it had to be amputated to save my life. Elijah did it,” Shiro’s opinion of Elijah skyrocketed. He reached forward to squeeze Adam’s shoulder.

 “You’re a hero, you know that, right?” He demanded seriously. Adam snorted, and Shiro dropped the subject for now. “So you escaped the wreckage of your broken ship with a mangled arm, somehow managed to get to Japan, and then proceeded to start a rebellion?”

Adam ducked his head sheepishly. _Yep, he hasn’t changed **that** much. Same old Adam._ “Er… That’s the condensed version, but I guess?” Shiro shook his head.

“What the _hell_ , Adam?”

“Me?” He laughed. “Takashi, you were supposed to pilot a space craft and collect asteroid rocks. _Rocks,_ buddy! How did you _mess that_ _up_?”

Shiro surprised himself with the sincerity of his chuckle. “I’ve been asking myself that for a long, _long_ time, believe me,” they shared a knowing grin. As if it were six years earlier and they were laughing about the funny things their students said or did in their classes. Shiro glanced outside, at the wrecked plains of a forgotten mountain, and grimaced.

“Adam, I have to know something, when Sam told you I’d survived, did you get a chance to tell…?”

“Your grandparents?” Adam interrupted with a wave of his hand. “Of course I did, Kashi. They were pretty pissed at me for how we… Ended things, but I left them a message explaining that their grandson was, once again, doing the impossible. Why? Did they not tell you that?”

He wrestled all grief from his expression hurriedly. “They’re gone,” he said, so softly he barely heard himself. Adam’s eyes widened, so evidently, he still had the hearing of a bloodhound. Shiro cleared his throat before Adam could offer his condolences.

The last thing he wanted to do was focus on more pain. “Listen, Adam, I know it’s been a long time, and we’ve both lived through hell. I know we… went our separate ways years ago, but after this whole debrief is over, I would be honored just to sit down with you and… Catch up,” he sounded anxious to his own ears. Adam eyed him strangely.

“Catch up?”

“Yeah. If you want to, that is. I’m not trying to force you. I just… I was ecstatic to discover you were alive and I just found out about my grandparents and I know you probably didn’t even want to mention me while I was gone but I…”

“You’re rambling,” Adam interrupted curtly. Shiro’s brows furrowed.

“I am not! Not like Pidge or Lance, anyway. You should hear them ramble, especially Lance about his weird skin creams. I mean honestly, that kid has a slight obsession with…”

Adam kissed him.

Shiro gasped into his mouth as suddenly calloused palms were cupping his face with an almost desperate intensity as Adam had smashed their lips together. He stiffened at first, his entire body locking into place. Then he softened, relaxing into the hold and turning his head so that their teeth would stop bashing together.  

His heart exploded. He heard it burst into flames and cheers.  

They came apart, gasping, foreheads pressed together. Shiro realized he had begun carding his fingers through Adam’s hair, and the feel of silky waves against his hand was _so nice_. “Takashi,” Adam breathed against his temple. “Here’s what I’m thinking. You’ll give a debrief to the rest of the crew and leaders. You’ll probably have to answer a thousand questions. Then I’m taking you to my dinky little apartment room thing. All we have to eat are these weird tuber things and some freeze-dried jerky, but we can pretend it’s like those first few dates we had…”

“Pretend nothing. We were so poor we basically _did_ eat freeze dried jerky and tubers,” Shiro reminded him, smiling at the memory.

“We can talk, or… Not. Whatever you want. Then I’m going to take you to bed, make love to you until we both pass out because it looks like you haven’t slept in at least three years. We’ll handle everything else in the morning. Is that ok?”

Shiro couldn’t find the breath to speak, so he just nodded vigorously. Adam released him with a tender smile. “Good. Welcome home.”

Shiro felt stinging tears prick his eyes. “Yeah… Yeah, thanks," he whispered just as the doors slid open again. Shiro ducked his head to hie the clear emotion on his face. He didn't have time for this right now. Adam squeezed his shoulder shyly, and turned. 

"Let's debrief, you louts!" He yelled teasingly.

Shiro studied the small flood of people strolling in. Some were dressed in the rugged bullet proof vests of an old world. Others wore nothing but thin shirts and kimonos, oddly enough. Everyone had deep circles beneath their eyes, and wan smiles, but they were alive. It was more than he could say for his grandparents. 

Wrenching himself away from the agony of that thought, he crossed his arms and accepted Elijah's invitation to be up front. 

 The Rebel leadership was larger than he had imagined. Most of the factions he had encountered so far -The Voltron Coalition, The Blades- had a single person or a maximum of four people running the largest operations. Then again, that was partially because the rebellions had been smaller or had a clearer goal.

The Blades had been a coordinated group of perhaps a hundred fighters. It had apparently grown with time, but still, it was infinitely easier to divide labor between a hundred people rather than a thousand. Besides the Blades were trained fighters. The Voltron Coalition had waited on the word of Allura before doing anything, and only after weeks of comprehensive planning did, they even attempt anything. Adam’s rebellion housed _refugees_ , innocent people seeking sanctuary in the mountains.

When the rest of the rebel leaders had settled into the room, Shiro blinked. There were twenty-five leaders in all, men and women who milled about with nervous energy. Adam sat in the back of the room, smiling tiredly as he greeted the few that walked in late. Shiro tried not to stare.

“Alright, you louts!” Elijah roared, his gruff voice cutting through the quiet chatter. “Shut your mouths! Captain Shirogane is here from the Capital!”

_Was_ the Garrison the capital now? It made sense. It was the last area of Earth that had enough technology and a population large enough to kick start the rebuilding process. Shiro hadn’t thought about it yet. He found himself scanning the room, slipping seamlessly into command.

“What’s happened out there, Captain?” One of the leaders called impatiently. “We don’t get much news. Some say the Galra are all gone. Some say they were defeated by giant lions?” Shiro nodded.

“Five of them,” he agreed easily. “Let me ask this first, how many people are in this base?” He asked.

“Four thousand, two hundred and seven, precisely,” a woman with bright orange hair reported. Shiro nodded. That was nearly the number of refugees who had emigrated to Earth so far. Impressive. His gaze slid to Adam, pride sparking in his chest.

“Good,” he said eventually. “That’s good. How’s food supply? Medicine?”

A few stray glances. “I mean, it ain’t as if we’re doin stellar,” Elijah supposed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But we’re surviving,” Shiro nodded.

“I can help with that. Get me a list of what you need, I’ll have it delivered,” more than a few shoulders relaxed, the tension in the room lightening immediately. “Now, some of you know me,” a quick glance at Adam.

“For those of you who don’t, my name is Shiro. I’m the current Captain of the Atlas, the first alien-human integrated technological vehicle in history. I have a lot of other job titles that I don’t want too, but you don’t need the list,” he waved a dismissive hand drawing a few understanding chuckles from the crowd.

“Roughly six years ago now, I was the pilot on the Kerberos mission. While on that mission, myself and two other crewmembers were taken captive by the Galra, who were searching for an ancient weapon called Voltron,” he activated his wrist pad with a tap of the fingers. A holographic image of Voltron popped up.

Elijah whistled. “That the lions? Where’s the Black one?”

“In the middle,” Shiro replied, smiling. “And yes. Those are the Green, Yellow, Blue, Red and Black lions. You need all five to create Voltron, along with five pilots. The lions choose their own pilots based on specific personality traits, so not just anyone can pilot them. Voltron is the most powerful weapon in the universe.” It was almost rote to him by now to repeat the information.

“You one of the pilots?” Shiro felt Black purr in the back of his mind, her affection so strong it threatened to make him blush. He cleared his throat.

“Technically. When we first began operating Voltron, I was the chosen Paladin of the Black lion. The head of Voltron. Certain things happened so that I couldn’t fulfill that role for awhile, so now Keith leads the team. I can still _operate_ the Black Lion, but I have my hands full with _Atlas_ now,” and Atlas was a handful, as Allura had laughingly observed.

_I can feel its presence on you,_ she’d informed him. _Quite like a petulant child. It’s fascinating._

_And dangerous,_ he’d said, thinking about how different his bond with Atlas was from his connection with Black. The Black Lion was serene and controlled. Atlas was so new, so full of energy that Shiro couldn’t quite manage himself. It didn’t feel like a partnership so much as wrangling an aberrant child.

Then again, that was how leading The Paladins had felt like, too.

“They say you’ve fought the Galra on other planets.”

“Hundreds. I’ve spent the past four years in another galaxy, first as a Galra slave, then as a freedom fighter. We were fighting to lessen the Galra hold on that other universe, hopefully so that they wouldn’t have the time or capacity to find Earth. In a pivotal battle with the Galra leader Lotor, Voltron entered a pocket of space where time was… _Warped._ What seemed to us a few weeks was actually a few years. Years that the Galra used to suppress the rebellions we had begun and get to Earth.”

“That’s when you came back?”

“Yes.”

“So… Are they gone, then? The Galra?”

Shiro sighed and rocked on his heels thoughtfully. “Not completely. On any world, The Galra try to establish secret bases so that even if they are overthrown, those stations hold the possibility for reinvasion. Right now, the Garrison is working on rooting out those bases and destroying them, along with… Counting the dead.”

“We heard other aliens have come.”

“Yes. Along with our Altean allies,” a picture of Allura, Coran and Romelle, grinning shamelessly and arms wrapped about each other’s shoulders, flashing their fingers in flamboyant peace signs, flashed to life.

 He smiled. “Without them, the Earth would have been destroyed a long time ago. Others have come, too. In the other galaxy, there was a rebellion we started called The Voltron Coalition. The survivors have come to Earth, looking for refuge and to begin again,” he received a few nods.

 Most people looked disconcerted. Shiro couldn’t blame them. Only years earlier most people had believed aliens didn’t even exist, and now thousands of them were coming to their planet? He might have been panicked too. Adam’s brows were furrowed pensively. It was cute.

“Are they staying?” He wondered.

Shiro decided now was probably not the time to tell them that many aliens had already begun making a home on Earth. “We’re working something out, but some of them might. Don’t worry too much about it right now. As it is, what I need from this base is a comprehensive list of the people here. We’ll try to reunite you with your families, if possible. But the fight isn’t over yet.”

“Obviously,” the red-haired woman snorted. She ogled his arm cautiously. “Is your arm alien?” She asked suspiciously.

“For goodness sakes, Irva!” someone muttered, elbowing her in the side.

“What? You don’t see it _floating?!”_

Shiro folded his hands behind his back. “Don’t worry. I get plenty of tactless questions. Yes, my arm is a combination of human and Altean tech. There’s a crystal inside that supplies it with endless energy,” he powered it up, showed them the eerie blue light. Several people jumped in their seats, suspicion and fear glowing in their eyes. Shiro was used to the reactions. “It works as an efficient weapon.”

Irva crossed her arms, nodded. “Think we can get one of those?”

Shiro met her gaze. “We can work on it,” relief and delight briefly crossed her face. She nodded eagerly.

“What happened to it?” One man asked shyly, staring at Shiro as if he were a particularly interesting looking insect.

“Why don’t none of ya’ll have sense?” Elijah grumbled. “He got captured by the Galra. What do you _think_ happened to it?”

“I didn’t lose it in a card game, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Shiro cut in, just as the man opened his mouth to argue. Yes, these people certainly weren’t like the Blade of Marmora or the Voltron Coalition. He was slightly amused. “The Galra often performed medical experiments on slaves. I got unlucky.”

It was the nicest version of his experience. The room lapsed into silence. Shiro let it stay for a moment, just to remind them about the people they had just defeated, then continued. “In the battle against the last of the Galran troops, the other Paladins were all injured. They’re recovering now, but while they’re out of commission, the Garrison needs fighters to help destroy the rest of the Galra bases.”

“Count me in!”

“We’re with you, captain!”

“Where do we start?”

“Alright, alright!” Shiro laughed, holding up his hands to fend off the enthusiastic cries of defiance. Across the room, Adam’s eyes were shining. “Let’s get started then.”

* * *

 

It turned out that Adam’s apartment was underground.

About seven stories below ground, actually; nestled in between other such small rooms and cubicles. “ _Elijah insisted I have the apartment,”_ Adam had explained when he flicked on the light, blushing. _“I tried to turn him down. I’m only one person, after all, but he claimed since this whole thing was my doing, I… Well, I should get something good out of it,”_ Shiro had smiled.

_“I agree with him,”_ he’d assured Adam. The apartment was small and barren, consisting of a single bedroom, small kitchenette and living area. There was a petite, round table in the kitchenette. Adam had dragged over two-fold-up lawn chairs, much to his amusement and Adam’s embarrassment.

_“Now it really is just like our first date,”_ Shiro had laughed. The lamp in the corner flickered every few minutes, as if it couldn’t decide whether its time was nigh or not. The bedroom had an actual bedframe, but it looked as if a military installation, all metal springs and containing only a threadbare mattress and blanket.  

 It was perfect. “You weren’t kidding,” Shiro choked. “I’ve eaten food goo, giant lobster eyes and Snorvil testicles, but this… _This_ is nasty,” he gurgled past the mushy pieces of tuber in his mouth. He stuck out his tongue as the acrid juices slid down his throat and around his gums. The roof of his mouth seared at him angrily.

Adam, digging into his own tuber with relish, just snorted. “You get used to it,” he replied.

“What even _is_ this?”

“We’re not exactly sure. We found it in the mountain caves. It isn’t harmful, and no one has gotten scurvy yet, so we use it,” Shiro swiped at his watering eyes. He, too, had eaten his fair share of shrubbery and acrid plant while hiding from the Galra… Or, his clone had. He could only recall bits of that experience, and he didn’t want anymore. Not here.

Adam chuckled as Shiro took a sip of his water. Immediately, dirt particles and minerals stuck between his teeth like sand. He swallowed without flinching.

“I can get you some freeze dried jerky,” Adam offered.

Shiro shook his head. “If you’re eating it, so am I.”

“Feeling wimpy there, Takashi?”

“You wish. I’ll have you know that I once swallowed one of Coran’s Paladin lunch delights without vomiting for at least two minutes. I can handle _a tuber_ ,” he shoved another forkful in his mouth to prove the point.

 Adam blinked. “What does that even _mean_?” Oh, right. Shiro had become so accustomed to being with the Paladins, or anyone from space really, that he’d forgotten some memories and ideas weren’t universal. He suddenly felt a pang in his chest. He had spent days- _months,_ a voice in his head reminded him- away from the Paladins before. He never stopped missing them.

“It’s… It was the first meal Coran tried to feed us when we got onto the Castle ship. I couldn’t tell you all that was in it, but suffice to say, it smelled and tasted awful. Apparently, it was once an Altean delight,” Adam shook his head wonderingly.

“Tell me more about them.”

“The Alteans?”

“Any of the aliens. Which planet was your favorite?” Shiro wracked his brain for good memories. Most of the ones they had stopped at had been conquered by the Galra, the people enslaved or ignorant. There weren’t many chances to see the beauty of a place unless it was blatant.

“Cerivan VI,” he finally decided. “It was on the outskirts of the Heride Quadrant. We spent _weeks_ trying to plan a way to get around the Galra blockade. Cerivanian’s were notorious for their fine jewels and spices, so the entire planet was enslaved. It was a long campaign, lasted...” He stopped, did some mental calculations.

“Three? Three months if I remember right. We were exhausted by the end, so Allura suggested we stay a few days afterward. We had a picnic on the fields overlapping where the Cerivanian’s mined their jewels,” Shiro closed his eyes. “It was as if were on the top of the world. A storm was coming. You could see the clouds in the distance, blacker than night, rolling, powerful and overwhelming. It was if we were underwater, watching the waves lap over us. Then _the hills,_ Adam. They were all browns and purples and golds, flowers blooming everywhere. It set off Pidge’s allergies, but it was so beautiful even she didn’t want to move. We ate some of Hunk’s fresh croissants.”

_What I wouldn’t give to have one of those now._

“He used the strawberry type jam that time. We sat in the field and shared stories until it started to rain, and even then, Lance and Keith started a puddle splashing contest, so we didn’t leave. We just… Played in the storm like kids for hours. We were soaked, and I think Coran, Hunk and I got sick for days, but it was _worth_ it,” when he opened his eyes again, Adam was watching him with an indulgent smile.

“Sounds great,” he observed.

“It was incredible,” Shiro agreed. “We didn’t do that often. We kept moving most days, hoping to catch Zarkon unawares. Then there were other days…” He sighed. Adam pushed up his glasses with a finger.

“You all must have gotten pretty close.”

Shiro shrugged. “Yeah. You know how it is in war. You either become a family or lose your mind. Allura and Coran have led us through _impossible_ situations. They’re some of the bravest, kindest people I know. Oh, and Keith! Adam, you won’t _believe_ how far he’s come. He’s a real leader now, and a magnificent pilot. Lance is our goof-ball, but he’s matured _so much_. If anyone is going to do great things, it’s Lance.  Pidge has been _so_ strong throughout this entire ordeal, putting aside her own family to help save the universe. Hunk is terrified nine times out of ten whenever we begin, but he always manages to do the courageous thing. They’re really good people, Adam,” he told him, the warm glow of affection igniting in his chest, as it always did when he mentioned his friends. He wondered, briefly, his grandparents had ever felt this way about him and discarded the thought as quickly as it came. Adam set his chin in his hands, smiling softly.

“Sounds like it.”

“I’m sorry. I keep talking about myself…”

“Actually, you’ve mainly mentioned everyone but yourself.”

“Tell me how you got to Japan.”

Adam sighed and folded his hands together. The lamp in the corner flickered for a long moment, casting shadows across Adam’s face. His caramel skin glowed gold in the low light. “It’s a… Long story, really. You know about Commander Iverson’s orders?” Shiro nodded gravely.

“He told me. They didn’t know what the Galra were capable of yet, so they sent out the big guns,” he agreed. That had been a rather difficult conversation. For a fleeting second, Shiro had been glad Sanda was dead. He might have killed her himself for not heeding Sam’s warnings, and thus sparing Adam’s life.

“When I woke up, I was stranded in a desert gulley miles from the Garrison. I knew that the Garrison defenses were null. I don’t know what I was thinking. To get help? To try and warn the nearby town?” Adam shook his head. “I was delirious with blood loss. It was stupid.”

“No,” Shiro contradicted. “I imagine whatever you were thinking, it was appropriately noble and well-meaning, as per your usual,” Adam threw him a charming grin, a little sad in the flickering lights.

“Suck-up,” he accused lightly. “Anyway, I stumbled out of my jet, cradling my arm to my chest. I don’t know how long I walked in the desert. Eventually, I passed out, and when I woke up, I was in an underground cave system. Turns out, when the Galra attacked the local towns and cities, some of the survivors slipped into the old caves nearby. They still have cavemen drawings inside,” Shiro scowled.

_Old cavemen drawings?_ His mind flashed with a memory fuzzy at the edges. A board with strange drawings and pictures stapled across, the twine Keith had tied to each image as he tried to connect them… A slow smile tickled the edges of his mouth.

“Wait, weird paintings of lions on the walls? Odd symbols?” He asked.

Adam cocked his head, set his cup down with a clatter. “Don’t tell me…”

“I _know_ those caves. That’s where we found the Blue Lion!”

“Fucking hell, Takashi,” Adam growled. Shiro laughed. He didn’t remember Adam being so prone to cursing, but he supposed _something_ had to change over the years. “Whatever. Elijah was there. He amputated my arm. We knew we weren’t safe though. The Galra were searching the deserts for any survivors, we heard their planes flying ahead every night, so we had to find a way to get us and the other refugees to safety. We left in the night, screaming. We passed through so many abandoned or destroyed towns that I lost count. Finally, we reached Denver.”

“That’s a state away, Adam.”

“Don’t remind me,” Adam said with a shudder. “Longest journey _of my life_. So we get to Denver, right? And guess what’s still intact? The airport. One of the passenger planes had been left on the ramp. Luckiest break ever. As we were trying to sneak aboard, we were spotted by a patrol. We barely made it. A few shots clipped the wings, but... I didn’t know if the Galra had taken over the entire globe, so I guess I just kept flying. We ran out of fuel near Tokyo and had to make an emergency landing. The city hadn’t fallen yet, so we stayed there until it did, evacuating as many citizens as we could wherever we could. We escaped into the mountains and kept moving. We’ve been here ever since.” Adam sank back into his lawn chair as if the story had stolen the breath from him. A fine sheen of sweat sparkled along his brow, and Shiro wondered if he had been having flashbacks this entire time.

He reached over, watching Adam’s face for any reaction, and grabbed his hand. “No wonder you look so exhausted,” he quipped.

Adam snorted a laugh, surprising them both. “That’s all you have to say to me?”

“What? Am I supposed to be surprised? I _know_ you Adam,” Shiro looked down. He had never been a man who handled emotions particularly well, and the years hadn’t changed that unless he was regarding the Paladins. He fumbled for words, idly playing with the edge of Adam’s sleeve. “No matter what alien race eventually invaded Earth, if anyone had a chance at taking them down and protecting innocent people, it was you.”

Adam squeezed his hand. Despite the weariness in his smile, his eyes twinkled with gratitude. It made Shiro’s heart flip. “You have a higher opinion of me than I do for myself. Besides, what about you, _Captain_?”

He had been so preoccupied staring at the tattoo on the inside of Adam’s wrist that the question made him jump. “What about me?”

“You somehow took a team of four inexperienced kids and two aliens, replete with terrible memories as a slave, and helped save not only Earth but countless worlds.”

“It wasn’t all me. In fact, it wasn’t even _mostly_ me,” Shiro informed him. “The Paladins had to pick up for my slack so often. If I had had a choice, I wouldn’t have been the leader at all. They deserved better,” he sighed.

“Takashi, I want to see one person who could have endured what you did, lead the way you did and still come out sane.”

Shiro wanted to know that person too. He would hand over command to them immediately. “I’m not sure I am sane,” he murmured. Then, because he couldn’t stand not knowing anymore, he tapped the swirling letters. “Who is Omar?”

Adam snatched his hand away as if Shiro had burned him. “Ah…”

“You don’t have to tell me if its uncomfortable,” Shiro assured him. “I was just wondering. The tattoo wasn’t there last time I saw you, so I assume it’s from…After.”

“He’s… He was my husband.”

Shiro felt as if he had been struck him with lightning. His mouth scorched itself dry. “Oh,” he peeped.

“Yeah.”

“I…” What was he supposed to say to that? Jealousy, sickening and cold, lumped in his gut. The nerves in his left arm began to vibrate, the earliest sign that it was powering up. Shiro squelched his instinctive defense quickly. He had prepared himself for this. He was ready. This was _fair_. “I knew you would find someone eventually. It’s no less than what I wanted for you, and… Wait, you said _was.”_

“He’s dead,” Adam spat.

_Oh, Adam_. Shiro sighed, recognizing the smoldering anger of loss. He knew that anger intimately. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

Adam eyed Shiro as if he suspected he might attack him. Shiro waited, wondering if he had pushed too hard, if the sweat beading the back of his neck was from guilt or actual nervousness. Still, he held Adam’s gaze calmly.

_Patience yields focus._

Eventually, the man he loved unwound. He tipped his chin back, almost defiantly.  “I met Omar a year after you were lost on Kerberos. He was a consulting engineer, from Boston. At first, we were just people who needed each other. His father had just recently passed. You were gone. Keith pretended I didn’t exist, probably because I reminded him of you,” Shiro cringed. Keith had mentioned that.

“Omar saw I was struggling, and I saw he needed some comfort. We were friends and then… not friends. I don’t know if I would have survived without him. Then Sam came back. And things just _had_ to get difficult,” he sighed wholeheartedly, glaring at Shiro as if he partially blamed him for his inner struggle. “When Sam told me you were alive, I was overjoyed, but I also didn’t know what to think. The other Paladins had sent some kind of recording for their loved ones, but you hadn’t sent anything to me. I figured you had either forgotten me or hated me.”

Shiro’s breath hitched. Guilt churned in his gut. He shook his head desperately. “No! No, Adam, I…” _I was already dead when Sam left for Earth. My consciousness was stuck in the Black Lion and my clone was too scared of rejection to send you word._

How was he going to explain his life?

Adam blinked rapidly, trying to flutter the tears away. “No, no. It’s ok. I figured I deserved it. I had left you right before the most important moment in your life, maybe months before your death. Yeah, I did it because you were being a stubborn jackass again, but it’s no less than I deserved. I thought the best thing to do for us both then was to… Let you go and move on,” Shiro swallowed a lump in his throat.

“After the initial attack, Omar slipped out of the Garrison to find me. Fate had it that he also escaped unscathed and made it to the caves. We made it to Denver, then Tokyo and finally the mountains,” Adam’s face melted into a soft smile. “He was… He was _amazing,_ Shiro. Strong and smart and funny. He always made me laugh. He built this arm for me,” a wave.

“The marriage thing was sloppy and quick. We had just returned from a scouting mission that had nearly been the death of us. You know how people get, when they’re giddy off life and adrenaline? We were at that point. Suddenly he just drops to one knee and proposes. I said yes, and we had an impromptu wedding right there in the snow in front of like five rebels. Irva married us.”

Married. Adam had been married while Shiro was in another galaxy fighting the Galra. Shiro shoved away the swirling jealousy and betrayal and loss in his gut _. Don’t be selfish,_ he told himself, even as he felt his heart snapping.

Adam must have seen the agony on his face. Mercifully, he reached out and laid a hand atop Shiro’s. “I never forgot you Kashi!” He swore fervently. “Omar never asked me too, either. Every night I wondered where you were, if you were safe, if anyone was looking out for you. I know you had Keith, but… I drove myself insane worrying about you. Sam didn’t go into details about the abduction or interrogation. Had you been tortured? Did the Alteans or whatever find a cure for your disease? Would you… Would you even be the same person if you survived the war? Or would all the bloodshed kill the kindness inside you? Would you come back crippled? There hasn’t been a second in all these years where I have not feared for you.”

Well, that made him feel a little better.

Shiro managed a shaky inhalation. “I thought of you too. Every day. Sometimes, when I thought I was going to die from pain or starvation or exhaustion, I would hear your voice telling me to get up. At times that’s all that kept me going.”

“It killed me to think of you lost in the stars, all alone except for a couple of kids. _Killed_ me, Kashi.”

“Hey,” Shiro called gently, swiping the tears from Adam’s face. “I’m alright. I’m alive. What about Omar?”

Adam exhaled a shuddering breath. “It was a year and a half ago now. We had just been married for two years when we received a scattered signal. It was from a group of rebels that had been captured by the Galra and escaped. They were scared, starving. Omar took a team out to retrieve them, but… It was a trap. They were ambushed,” he released a wet sob that made Shiro’s heart clench. “No survivors.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I… I spent so long thinking it was my fault. I had lost not one but two of the men I loved. Maybe I’m just meant to be alone. Maybe I don’t deserve to be loved.”

“Don’t say that Adam! It’s not true. Omar wouldn’t think so either. You’re a hero!”

“No, _you’re_ a hero, Shirogane. I’m just a widow who could fly a stolen plane. All the things you must have endured…”

Shiro leaned over the table, swiped away Adam’s tears with both hands. “I’m just glad you found someone to love, and who loved you in turn,” he said sincerely. Jealousy still sat like lead in his stomach, but it wasn’t painful. No matter his own feelings, Omar had saved Adam’s life. Shiro couldn’t help but feel grateful for that.

“And who loved _you_ Kashi? Whose taken care of you all these years?” Shiro was stumped for an answer on that one. He carded his hands through Adam’s hair.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“Yes, it does. Did they torture you?”

“Adam.”

“Please. I’d wake up screaming some nights, just imagining the terrible things that the Galra… You said they _experimented_ on you?”

Adam’s eyes slid to the prosthetic despondently. Shiro pulled it away.

“Does it… Creep you out?”

“I’d have to be a hypocrite, if it did,” he reminded him, holding up his own prosthetic. “No, of course not Shiro. I’m just… I’m sorry. All the things you’ve seen, and I’m crying all over you,” he stammered. Shiro inhaled a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to do was explain Haggar’s experiments and the Arena to Adam. Not tonight. He sat back instead; and smiled.

“There was a saying we had aboard the castle, whenever things would get hard. And they did. Numerous times. There were weeks when I think we all considered jettisoning ourselves out into space just to make the pressure and despair and pain stop. But no one did. Because when I saw the fatigue on the other’s face, I would grab them and say _don’t look back, look at me._ No matter what mistakes or problems we had faced that day, we had to remember that our success and strength lied in the fact that we had all gotten back safely. It was a luxury,” he gave a solemn nod. “I’m sorry Omar wasn’t able to come home to you.”

Adam’s glasses caught the reflection of light as he dipped his head. “He died a hero.”

“He did. He was worthy of you. I wish I could have met him.”

“Funny… He always said the same thing about you. Are you… I mean, how long are you staying?”

“A few days, at most. The scientists are still trying to find out what makes _Atlas_ tick, so I have some time before I’m expected back,” Adam’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “If you don’t want me here, I mean if it’s weird for me to stay, then I can…” He started to stand, just in case.

Adam placed both hands around his and squeezed. “Don’t go,” he pleaded softly. They sat in silence a moment, linked by the hands in the flickering light. “Alright, that’s enough for tonight. Kiss me,” Shiro blinked, astonished by the simple command.

“Are you sure?” He asked, glancing at his wrist. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. We don’t have to be what we were before, Adam. Especially not this soon after Omar. You waited for me. I can wait for you, even if it takes eternity,” he promised. Adam grinned.

“Takashi, the fact that you just said that solidified just how sure I am. Kiss me,” well, Shiro didn’t need to be told twice. Yet he didn’t want Adam to feel bad about this later. So he raised the other man’s knuckles, even the prosthetic, and peppered gentle kisses on his fingers and palms.

“I never forgot you,” he whispered against the smooth hairs peppering Adam’s knuckles. “And I never hated you. I understand why you left now. You were right to do it. I was just too proud to see it then,” he kissed Omar’s name. “I’m _glad_ you met him, and I’m grateful he took care of you when I couldn’t.”

“Takashi,” Adam breathed, eyes wide.

“I’m proud of you,” Shiro continued, sliding his sleeve up so he could kiss the inside of his elbow. “I’m proud of how strong you’ve become, and the people you helped save. I’m really, _really_ happy you’re alive.”

“Feelings mutual,” Adam choked out. “Can you _please_ kiss me now?”

“I don’t want you to feel like we have too,” Shiro repeated, worriedly, though somewhere in the past few minutes he and Adam had stood. Adam leaned against the tiny table, arms outstretched so as to allow Shiro better access. Shiro pressed a kiss to the edge of his prosthetic, where skin and metal met. He felt Adam’s shiver race up his own spine.

“Takashi Shirogane, I have a few days with you. I’m not going to waste them. We can flesh out the past again later. Just kiss me already!” Adam commanded. Shiro chuckled against his palm.

“So pushy,” he muttered, yanking Adam forward. The other man went pliant in his arms, and for once Shiro didn’t hate his prosthetic as it wrapped around Adam’s lower back, holding him up. He curled his fingers into Adam’s hair with the other hand, gently maneuvered him forward so he could press his lips to Adam’s.

Heat started to simmer in his lower stomach.

Adam moaned when Shiro plucked the glasses from his face. They were in the way.  “I _missed…_ you so… much,” Adam breathed between kisses. “Getting the news that… Kerberos was lost… It was one of the worst days of my life,” he whispered, kneading Shiro’s shoulders. He ducked when Shiro tried to kiss him again, diving forward to press his lips against Shiro’s pulse point.

His knees went weak. “I’ve always been a little impressed by you, Takashi, but now I’m just awestruck. Pilot of Voltron. Defender of the galaxy. Captain of the Atlas. I revere you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Shiro choked, head spinning as Adam’s hands slipped beneath his shirt, stroked his sides so lightly it almost tickled. “The Galra… They called me _their Champion_. I was supposed to be their weapon,” tears stung his eyes. “I’m a monster, Adam,” he sobbed.

“Shh,” Adam replied, kissing him deeply. When he pulled back, Shiro realized they had somehow stumbled to the floor of the living area. His back pressed into a soft rug. “You are _not_ a monster. I don’t care what those Galra bastards called you. You are not broken,” a fluttering kiss against his collarbone. “You are not anyone’s weapon,” then lower, to his shoulder where metal and flesh met. Shiro gasped. “You are not unredeemable. Not to me.”

Shiro’s head fell back against the floor. “You’re an idiot,” he reminded him.

Adam pulled back to cup his face, staring down at him with infinite tenderness.  “Takashi, how much do I love you?” It was a time-honored saying between them. A sob escaped him painfully. He scrabbled at the back of Adam’s shirt, his sides, his face and neck. He wanted skin more than he needed breath.

Adam stroked his pure silver hair. “How much, Kashi?”

“More than there are stars in every sky,” he replied obediently. Adam pressed a kiss to his nose, and Shiro felt like he was drowning in the waves of his breath.

“Exactly. Now kiss me.” He did, repeatedly, hoping to banish any memory that was not him, to drown Adam just as he had been drowned, to demonstrate every moment of yearning and agony he had endured through touch. He wanted it all.

So he kissed him.

 


	4. Metal cats and their Kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some cuteness as Adam meets The Black Lion, a muscled Matt Holt, and discovers his former-fiance is now a space dad.

That night, Adam didn’t dream.

It was the first time since Takashi had vanished that he fell into the darkness of slumber seamlessly. He moaned when his eyelids fluttered open. His limbs were heavy, but he felt scoured clean. As if someone had taken a spoon and scooped the rage and pain and self-hatred from his soul. He had been carrying it for six years, the weightlessness was jarring.

So was the warm body in his arms.

Adam’s eyes swiveled down, startled. They were on the floor of his living room, a thin blanket wrapped around their upper body and waists. He could see -and _feel-_ Takashi’s toes digging into his heels. He blinked away the tears that suddenly sprung to his eyes.

Takashi was alive. He was alive and asleep in his arms.

 _Which might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen_ , he marveled, staring. They had knocked the lamp over sometime last night _(oops)_ so that light was gone. Being six feet underground meant that there was no sunlight to illuminate the room, but Adam could still see Shiro’s face in the dim light from above the kitchen sink.

The silver hair had been a shock, but even that could not dull his look of youth. The scar on his nose was dark and foreboding, but his face was so relaxed where it was nuzzled against Adam’s throat. His arms, even the prosthetic, were wrapped loosely around Adam’s waist.

Adam eyes trailed over the prosthetic. Where Takashi’s upper arm once resided, there was a disconcerting emptiness. He could see his stomach through it, yet somehow where it touched his skin, Adam felt a slight tingle of energy, like fine hairs brushing across his bare abdomen. The space, even as he stared at it and discerned that yes, there was nothing there, almost felt _solid._ Adam pressed his cheek against Takashi’s hair and filed the information away to ask later.

In the days after his death, Adam had dreamed he might wake up like this. Takashi folded into his side, safe and snoring. It was nice that they were both completely naked too. That was _very nice_.

Adam traced the thin outline of a scar on Shiro’s back. It was long and jagged, as if he had been clawed by something, or someone had taken a scalpel to him and just started to _cut._ Adam’s breath caught in his throat.

_“The Galra often performed medical experiments on slaves. I got unlucky.”_

“Oh, Kashi,” he muttered, tightening his hold. The other man stirred in his grasp; but didn’t wake. Adam was fine with that. “Maybe I’ll just kidnap you next,” he speculated aloud, letting his gaze slide to the ceiling. He drew circles on Takashi’s back with his fingers, enjoying the feel of warm skin. “And keep you here, in my arms, forever.”

“The Paladins would stage a rescue operation,” Adam jumped when Takashi’s soft voice echoed in his ear. He looked down. The other man moved like a snake coming out of its curl, raising his head to peer at Adam curiously.

“The other Paladins can fight me,” Adam offered, as a good morning. Takashi’s grin was blinding.

“I thought I was dreaming,” he marveled, reaching out to touch Adam’s face. He leaned into the gentle brush. “And I wouldn’t be in such a rush to fight them. They have swords and guns and giant flying lions.”

“Yeah? Well, I have… A hostage!” He rolled, flipping them so that he was straddling Takashi’s hips. He didn’t waste time before he was digging his fingers into Takashi’s sides and ribs. He was pleasantly surprised when the ambush worked. Takashi yelped, throwing his head back as he broke into sniggers.

“A-Adam, aha! No!”

“Oh, does the renowned war hero still have ticklish ribs?” He cooed. “ _This_ is how I would get those silly Paladins to stand down. I would just threaten to tickle you to death.”

“N-no! Plehahase!” Takashi gasped as fingers started fluttering near his neck. Takashi’s squeal was at once cute and slightly frightening. Adam’s heart soared. “I surrender! I g-give! You can have me!” He giggled.

“I _know_ I can,” Adam harrumphed with a final squeeze of his ribs. He collapsed to the side, close enough so that he could hear Shiro gasping for breath. “I’m surprised you didn’t put up more of a fight,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow so he could peer into the blushing face.

“I can hardly move. _Someone_ fucked me into a blissful oblivion last night,” Adam laughed. His scar looked purple when he blushed, the contrast colorful and fascinating.

“And it was my divine pleasure, Captain,” he agreed. “Do you want breakfast?”

Takashi gave him a dry look. “You can’t fuck me unconscious, tickle me awake and then just offer me _tubers_ ,” he drawled. Adam rolled his eyes.

“Oh, are you too good for tubers, Takashi?”

Takashi’s glare was stunning in its sarcasm. “Kinda, yeah,” Adam snickered again and pulled himself so that they were chest to chest. Gentle hands came up, rubbing up and down his back. He laid his head on the slope of Takashi’s collarbone, listened to a strong heartbeat and sighed happily.

“Well, tubers and jerky are what we have. Take your pick,” Takashi sniffed.

“Actually, we should be getting actual food any minute now. I called in reinforcements last night,” he said. Adam looked up, surprised.

“You did?” Shiro smiled.

“Yes. We’re getting medicine, food and new supplies. Matt, Sam’s son? He’s dropping it off at the rendezvous point a few miles from here. He should be arriving,” his brow furrowed, as if searching for something, then nodded. “In about two varga.”

“Two _what_?”

“Hours. I’m supposed to go pick up the supplies and prove I’m still alive, or did you intend to actually play out this hostage thing?” He laughed when Adam flicked his shoulder.

“Maybe I will. But why only Matt, and why a rendezvous? And how do you know he’s coming in two _varga_?” He demanded, rolling the unfamiliar word on his tongue. Takashi shrugged.

“Matt runs a lot of pick-up and drop off missions for us these days. The other Paladins are still in recovery, so they’d _better_ not be coming. He mentioned something about his dad and the Olkari building a neural-interface shrinking… I don’t know. Science. So he has to get back to the Atlas, thus the rendezvous,” Adam decided there were parts of Shiro’s life he would never comprehend. He shook his head.

“And he’s arriving in two varga?”

“Yes. I’ve been having my lion track his whereabouts. She says he’ll be here in that time. What do you say?” He wiggled his brows at him playfully. “Do you want to ride in the Black Lion with me?” A thrill of excitement shot through him. Adam nodded eagerly.

“Duh!” he cried. “Then you can explain to me how exactly it, er, _she_ talks to you,” he suggested. Takashi gave him a look as if to ask _don’t all your ships speak to you?_ Then, he patted Adam’s back. When the smooth metal of the prosthetic ghosted down Adam’s bicep, he shivered.

“Is this you asking for a repeat of last night?” He breathed.

“I don’t think I’m quite up for that yet,” Shiro replied. “But check in again with me later. I guess I’m gathering up the courage to ask you something,” huh, Takashi Shirogane actually being honest about his insecurities and worries. That was new. Adam looked up, set his chin on Takashi’s chest so they could lock eyes.

His eyes were as gray and deep as Adam remembered.

“Ask me,” he said. “If I don’t feel comfortable answering, I’ll let you know, but I kind of asked you lots of uncomfortable questions last night, so I suppose its only fair,” he said, thinking back to their conversation about Shiro’s kidnapping.

_“Did they torture you?”_

He still felt badly about that. What kind of person just asked that? Judging from the few scars Adam could see in the dim light and Takashi’s reticence about the subject, then yes, something terrible had happened to him. Adam shouldn’t have tried to push.

“You made up for any imaginary wrongs last night,” Shiro assured him. “I mean… I guess I was going to ask about that. Were you thinking of Omar when we… Last night?”

“Why is it you still can’t say sex without getting flustered?” he teased.

“Shut up! I’ve spent several years on a ship with aliens or impressionable young cadets, ok?”

“Blame the Paladins,” Adam tsked. Then, because Takashi looked so anxious, he sat up. “Listen, I don’t foresee a day passing when I don’t miss Omar. Just like when I was married to him, I always worried about you. But when I’m with you,” he stroked Takashi’s real arm thoughtfully. “I am with _you._ I promise.” Takashi sat up, and now Adam could see more scars adorning his chest and sides, puckering, angry scars that had been shadowed before. He gulped. Was his _entire_ body scarred?

“Alright,” Takashi sighed, one hand scrabbling at the floor for his pants. “That makes sense. I’m sorry I had to ask.” Adam just nodded.

“Sometimes you remind me of Omar, but that’s just because I have a type, I think,” he told him, watching the muscles ripple as Takashi eventually slid to his feet. He moved with the grace and ease of a gazelle.

 “Yeah?” Shiro asked, tossing a teasing smile over his shoulder as he pulled his boxers back on. The expression ignited a small fire in the pit of Adam’s belly. “And what type would that be, I wonder?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, you know, the valiant, headstrong, selfless type. Leadership skills. Big muscles. It’s a problem, really.”

Takashi pretended to contemplate the dilemma. “I do see your problem,” he agreed, and Adam tried to stomp out frustration as he kept clothing parts of his body in a deliberately slow fashion. “Those types tend to be overly dramatic or have big heads. Think they’re important. You should find other personalities. Expand your horizons,” he stretched out his prosthetic to demonstrate.

It glowed blue with a slight whir. Adam’s breath hitched in his throat.

“You think so?” He asked, and damn it, his voice cracked.

Takashi nodded, back still to him as he raised his shirt and very slowly, _very_ flamboyantly, began easing it over his head. Adam followed it as it wafted over scarred skin, heart thudding in his throat. “I think it’s for the best, buddy.”

Adam stood and wrapped his arm around his firm waist from behind, burying his forehead against the back of his neck miserably. “Would you stop that?” He groaned.

Shiro chuckled. “What?”

“Getting dressed so sensually? I know _you_ know you’re attractive.”

“Who, me?”

“I hate you,” Takashi chuckled. “I should get out there. I bet Elijah is wondering where I am. I _do_ have responsibilities, you know,” he supposed lazily.

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m the leader of a very large rebellion. I have training with Irva in ten minutes,” usually Adam looked forward to their impromptu matches. Today, however, every bone inside him ached to stay here, wrapped around Takashi. He was such a sap.

“Training?” Takashi inquired.

Adam nodded against his back. “Irva was a Marine before all this. She trained us all in hand-to-hand combat. We still spar every morning, just to keep ourselves fit,” he explained.

“Do you use a weapon?”

“Bo staff. Or, a poor substitute for it. Really its just a reinforced water pipe. I call her Pompeii,” Takashi snorted, presumably at the name. Adam rolled his eyes. “Laugh it up, lion man. We should spar one of these days. I bet I could beat you,” he dared.

“Oh, you’re on,” Takashi agreed, patting his arms. “But not today. Today you have ten minutes until Irva is expecting you,” Adam sighed and eased himself away, going to scoop up his own clothes from the floor. He considered how dirty they- and he- were, but then shrugged.

Hiding out in the forests of a mountain wasn’t the cleanest vocation anyway. He was pretty sure no one could smell each other anymore, and evidently Shiro felt the same since he had donned the same clothes as last night without asking for a shower.

“You go ahead. I’ll clean up in here, and then I also should check-in with the Garrison and start performing my duties as official liaison,” Adam scowled as he shoved his legs into his pants and zipped himself. He had never hated being leader so much as he did right now.

“What about riding in the Lion?” Shiro leveled the lamp in the corner upright.

“I’ll come find you when I head out,” he promised. Adam grumbled. He had waited six years to get Takashi back. The idea of separating now… Would he wake up, only to find that this was a dream, like all the ones before? Adam let his shirt fall on, watching Takashi as he collected their dirty plates from the night before, humming quietly.

He looked content, peaceful.

 Adam grumbled to himself. Takashi looked up, and the crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Go, commander! Before someone comes looking for you, and we’re forced to explain the, er… Mess on your floor,” he reminded him, shooing Adam away.

Adam exhaled a deep breath. “You’re right,” he said, even as he jogged over to envelop him in a deep kiss. Shiro made an approving noise in the back of his throat, eyelids fluttering and _damn_ , wasn’t that incredible?

 “Have lunch with me?” Adam inquired when Takashi gently moved him back. A scarlet blush coated his face.

“Sure,” he answered. “But first you have to leave. Be a leader of men. I’ll see you in a few hours,” that sounded like it would take too long, but he was right. Like always. Both he and Adam had their own responsibilities and roles to perform. No matter how scared Adam was that this was all some incredible dream, he needed to face that reality.

_This isn’t about just us anymore._

He headed toward the door with a final kiss to the cheek. Takashi chuckled and shoved him to the door playfully. He was surprisingly strong, almost inhumanly so. Adam hesitated outside, still watching him. “Kashi?” He called softly.

“Hmm?”

“Promise me you’ll be here when I get back,” Takashi looked up with sparkling gray eyes, and smiled with understanding.

“Adam, how much do I love you?”

“More than there are stars in every sky?”

“Exactly. Now go. I promise I’ll be here,” and it was enough.

Adam left.

 

**_Later:_ **

“There you are!” Takashi cried, nearly three hours later when Adam stepped from the car a few feet away from the Black Lion. The vessel towered above them, yellow eyes glowing.

“What happened? I thought Matt was supposed to be here earlier?” He replied, slamming the door shut behind him. Elijah scampered out from the driver’s side. He had informed Adam that he was coming, if only so he could see the inside of the Black Lion himself. Now he stood beside him, grinning shamelessly. His gold teeth glinted in the mid-day sun.

“There was a fire in the engine room aboard the _Atlas_ ,” Takashi reported from where he stood by one of the lion’s giant paws. Adam approached them warily. Somehow, he felt as if the lion were watching him. “So, he’s running late.”

“A fire?” Elijah cried.

“Is everyone alright?” Adam added. Takashi rolled his eyes.

“Yes,” he scoffed. “The fire was started by the mice as they were scampering through the wiring system.”

“The… Mice?”

“Oh, right. Er… when Allura and Coran went into cryosleep, four mice got stuck in the pods with them. Now Allura has a psychic connection with them that allows them to communicatee. The mice are oddly human, but they’ve saved us more than a few times,” Adam blinked, studying Takashi’s face for any sign of a lie or laughter. Yet Shiro met his eyes seriously, so he shrugged. There were a lot of things he would never understand, he supposed.

So long as he had Takashi, he didn’t care.

Suddenly, a low growl interrupted the silence. Elijah shrieked, nearly catapulting himself into Adam as he jumped. Adam, too, had scrambled back a few steps, staring up at the lion, which… Had it moved? Whereas before it he been staring straight ahead, now its head was tilted so that it was staring straight at Adam. And was it… Growling at him?

“Kashi? Is that thing _alive_?” He squeaked.

“In a manner of speaking,” Takashi replied. He patted the lion’s paw. “Black, be nice. This is Adam. Don’t you remember? I’ve told you about him. He won’t hurt me,” he turned to them. “Sorry. She’s protective.”

Elijah summed up his thoughts quite nicely. “Son… What the hell?” Takashi’s expression was distinctly amused.

“The Lions were built ten thousand years ago by King Alfor, Allura’s father. He created them out of an alloy from another reality. No one truly understands how they work, but the Lions connect, spiritually, with their pilots. That’s why you must be _chosen_ to pilot them. It’s a symbiotic relationship.”

Adam gawked. “You mean…”

“The Black Lion acts as the head of Voltron. Think of her as a matriarch, the automatic leader. We share a lot of personality traits, including protectiveness. But she won’t hurt you. Lower your ramp for me, Black,” still growling, the lion did as he bid, lowering her massive jaw to the ground. When she opened her mouth, a ramp slid out like a mechanical tongue. “Elijah? Are you coming too?”

“Oh, no, no!” Elijah cried like the traitor he was. Adam didn’t want to get between Takashi and the giant, ten-thousand-year-old mom cat either, thank you very much. “No, lad, its fine. I was just dropping Adam off. Now that he’s here, I’ll leave you both to it,” he said. Shiro’s brow furrowed, as if he couldn’t possible fathom why anyone wouldn’t want to get near his metal death cat.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. Yes, sir. I’ll just stay here. On the base. Prepare the others to receive the goods you bring back, eh?” He clapped Adam on the back. “Good luck, commander.”

Then Elijah scampered back to his car as if the hounds of Hell were chasing him. Adam gulped and turned back to the lion as he drove away. Takashi was already on the ramp, smiling. He laughed when Elijah’s car was far enough away. “Ok, girl. Stand down. Thanks for your help,” he chuckled, patting the side of the ramp.

The Black Lion instantly stopped growling, the angry yellow in her eyes dimming until it was softer than fresh sunlight.

Adam was so confused. “Um… What?” He demanded as Takashi bounded up to press a kiss to his lips. He took his hand, dragging him back toward the demon cat.

“Black told me two people were coming. I figured Elijah might want to accompany us, so I had Black discourage him, so we could have some alone time,” Adam relaxed, allowed Takashi to haul him aboard.

“Oh, ho ho! Where did the uptight and morally superior Takashi learn trickery, eh?” He teased. Shiro snorted.

“Did I mention I was stuck in a war with kids? White lies and small tricks got me through my day,” he explained, and then they were in the cockpit. Adam’s mouth fell open as he noticed how the room lit up at Shiro’s entrance.

The screens and foreign buttons sprang to life in vivid purple. Takashi released his hand to take the pilot’s chair, which smoothly hovered back into place in front of the controls. Several holographic maps and communication hubs popped up in front of him, the black windows fading so that he could see the clear sky above.

“Incredible,” he breathed. Then, as something occurred to him, “wait, did you have the lion scare Elijah away so we could spend time together or because you don’t people to know about us?”

Takashi turned partially in his chair, brows furrowed. “I thought _you_ didn’t want anyone to know about us. Everyone here seems to think we were just old friends at the Garrison, after all,” ah. That was a good point. Adam’s cheeks flushed.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“No, its fine. I… I mean we haven’t established what we are right now anyway. Nor do we have to decide at this very moment,” he continued quickly when Adam opened his mouth. “I’m just grateful to get to spend time with you. I can wait for whatever else. Sound good?” Adam was relieved. He smiled.

He wasn’t sure he even could articulate just how he felt about Takashi in that second. He knew that he loved him, he had never truly stopped, but between the changes in them both as people, Omar’s death and the sheer number of things Adam did not understand about Shiro’s past, he doubted rushing back into a label was going to help.

“Yeah. That’s good.”

“Great,” Shiro turned back to the dashboard as Adam came up behind him, gripping the back of his chair. “Hold on. Here we go.”

 

* * *

 

“Is it even manual? Like, does she tell you what to do?”

“Not really. I’m in control of the flight, its more like… She’s my eyes, and I’m her hands, see? If I wanted too, I could see the world as she does. Every detail and sense in high-def. She trusts me to tell her where to go. I trust her to be my look-out. This lion has saved me in ways I can’t even describe.”

“I can’t imagine you flying this thing out to _battle,”_ Adam admitted. “It’s hard to think of you in war at all. I mean, you didn’t even want to kill the spiders in our apartment, Kashi,” he reminded him fondly.

“Hey! Those spiders were here before we were!”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, how does it feel? Does she speak to you in some kind of cat language?” Takashi laughed.

“No. It’s not even words really. It’s more of… Impressions. Feelings. Like how you can read my face or tone. Sometimes she makes noises. She can growl, whimper, purr and roar, but I think she only does that because she knows it’s how I understand her. I’ve heard her make other noises for species that have never seen a cat. She adapts to the situation.” Of course she did. Because far be it from Takashi to pilot a normal ship like a normal pilot. Adam crossed his arms speculatively.

“And you say she isn’t a living, sentient being because?”

“Because she can’t die,” Shiro replied with utmost certainty. “Lance says it’s like they’re vampires, but without sucking blood. They’re in a weird middle phase where they can be depowered; but can’t be killed or destroyed. It’s what make them so powerful.”

“And Black commands all the other lions? Like kittens?”

“No. Or, sometimes. It’s weird. Think of it like a lion pride. There’s a chain of command, sure, but the lionesses all hunt together. Mainly the bond is between pilot and lion, but I’m sure they have their own form of communication. The other lions follow her lead and she wouldn’t connect with me until the other lions had been found and were safe,” that was definitely weird. Adam ran a hand down the back of Takashi’s chair wonderingly.

“And Keith _also_ pilots this lion?”

“Yep. He leads Voltron these days.”

“And Voltron is when all the lions connect and make one big lion?”

Shiro laughed. “I wish. Voltron looks like a giant man, not a lion. That’s pretty freaky too, because then the pilots have a strange telepathic, empathetic bond. In Voltron, our individualism blurs until five becomes one. Its intense.”

“So, you’ve mind-melded with cadets?”

“I keep telling you they’re incredible people. How do you think I know?”

“I swear Takashi, you were only supposed to go _collect_ rocks…”

“I know, I know. Hey, look, Matt’s here first.”

The Black lion jolted as it landed, and Adam peered over Takashi’s shoulder to look at the slender, auburn haired man leaning against a small ship outside. “ _That’s_ Matthew Holt?” He gasped. “He was so little last time I saw him!”

“Don’t say that to his face,” Takashi muttered, standing. They exited the ramp. Matt looked up, his face still stained with soft blue light from the message hovering above his wrist, and grinned.

“Shiro! And Adam!” He cried, running over to them.

He and Shiro clasped arms as if it had been weeks since they’d seen each other.  “Thanks for bringing the supplies, Matt,” Takashi said.

“No problem,” Matt’s smile grew mischievous. “You look better.”

Takashi blushed lightly. It was adorable. “I _feel_ better,” he murmured. Matt nodded with satisfaction before turning to Adam. He was nearly his height now, his once wide, naïve eyes hardened over. Yet still kind. Adam smiled.

“Its good to see you, Commander Wright,” Matt said, offering his hand. Adam shook it vigorously.

“You too, Matt. Takashi has told me some of the things you’ve done. The Garrison couldn’t have asked for a better student,” Matt gave a modest half-shrug, exchanging an emotionless glance with Shiro.

“Yeah, well, the fight isn’t over yet. Speaking of which, I brought you all the stuff you asked for. I’ll help unload it,” he offered. Takashi nodded.

“Thanks. Also, have the others…?”

“I have a list,” Matt interrupted dryly. Heaving a sigh, he looked pointedly at the codes flashing down the screen on his wrist. “Keith says to tell you that the _Atlas_ is still in one piece so don’t worry. He also wants to know when you’re coming back because he says he doesn’t want to be leader anymore,” Takashi laughed, and Adam leaned over Matt’s shoulder, peering at the words which were…

Was that in code? _Alien code_?

“Hunk sent you some food. Three cheese macaroni?” Takashi’s eyes widened. He snickered and rubbed his hands together eagerly.

“I knew Hunk wouldn’t let me down,” he chuckled. Adam felt his own mouth water at the idea of _real food_. He’d been eating tubers and jerky for three years now. Three cheese macaroni? His stomach rumbled.

Matt continued reading from the list like an exasperated older sibling. “Hunk wants you to bring back tubers though, because he can make spicy soup with them. Don’t ask me about that. I don’t know. Pidge says that she knows a way to program your arm so that it can become a spear, bludgeon and sword, if you want. But she has to run some tests first,” Shiro pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“Is she resting?” He demanded.

Matt sighed wholeheartedly. “Let’s just say The Voltron moms have their hands full. They also request that you return with all due speed.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Lance told me to tell you that Pidge keeps cheating at Pac-Man and he demands you ground her when you come back. He also says, and I quote _‘don’t get too crazy out there, space dad. Remember the children,_ ’ end quote. Allura reports being bored to tears, and politely requests that you tell my dad to let her examine the Robeast. Really, I think she’s trying to command without being commanding. It’s kind of amusing. Coran wants to know if you look like you’ve slept.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, he’ll be happy. Everyone told me, in varying roundabout ways, to say that they miss you. Even though it’s been less than seventy-two hours since you left. Lance also wants pictures of your boyfriend.”

Adam chuckled at Takashi’s mortified expression. “He can’t just…”

“Say cheese.” A quick flash as Matt stood back and captured Takashi and Adam together in the same shot. He blinked as stars flittered in front of his vision.

“Matt!”

“I have strict orders, Shiro! Do you know how irritating they can be when I don’t give them what they want? Took mom and dad forty minutes to convince them not to _assemble_ to put out the fire today, and another four hours to forbid them from coming to see you themselves. You have the patience of a saint.”

“They’re antsy,” Takashi clucked sympathetically. “Whatever you do, _do not_ put them in one room together with tape, cards, the wolf or a puzzle.” Matt paled. Takashi shook his head.

“You already did, didn’t you?”

“I just gave them tape!”

“Oh no.”

“What are they gonna do with tape?!”

“These are the same Paladins who escaped Sendak’s ship without any resources or help. What do you _think_ they’re gonna do with tape?” Matt hung his head with a long groan. “Where’s Krolia? They’re all appropriately afraid of her.”

“She and Axca left this morning to help disable a Galra base in Copenhagen.”

“Please tell me they took the wolf.”

“Yes, thank the ancients.”

“And Keith’s blade?”

“Keith has _a blade,_ like, apart from his bayard?”

Takashi was staring at Matt as if he suspected he was going to explode any moment now. “I have a bad feeling about that tape,” Matt threw his hands up. Adam blinked, watching them. He had seen Shiro with students before- six years ago- but watching him now was strange. And sweet. It was as if Takashi was the ever-suffering but loving older brother, scolding one of his younger ones.

“Ah, come on! Shiro, why didn’t you teach your space children some manners?”

Takashi snorted and crossed his arms. “Yeah, because it’s my fault you gave your genius sister and her warrior friends tape,” he argued.

“Ah, man,” Matt moaned, butting his head against Shiro’s flesh shoulder dejectedly. Takashi patted his back. “I’m the worst babysitter ever.”

“It’s ok. They’re good kids, at heart.”

“They’re devils.”

“Yes, but they’re the devils who saved the universe from an intergalactic tyrant. I’ll give you a tip. Tell them you won’t let them see my responses unless they stand down.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Depending on what they’ve done with the tape, it might not work. Anyway, please tell Keith that he’ll _be fine._ Patience yields focus. I believe in him. He knows the spiel. Thank Hunk for the food; and tell him I’ll bring back _buckets_ of tubers if he wants. I’ll let Pidge play with my arm if she gets more than three hours of sleep a night while I’m gone. Tell Lance to mind his own business, and that I will ground them _both_ if they don’t stop with the Pac-Man thing. It goes too far sometimes. Tell Allura that she should be relaxing, but since I know she won’t, Sam’s notes for the Robeast are on my pad. She knows the passcode. And tell Coran that I am _an adult_ …”

“Are we sure?”

“Who can take care of himself,” Matt snorted.

“Whatever you say, Shiro.”

“And Matt?” He rested a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t throw yourself into babysitting because you need something to do. You just returned to Earth. Give yourself some time to adjust. Make friends who aren’t rebel fighters,” he encouraged. Matt rolled his eyes.

“Like you do?”

“Stop emulating me. Its damaging,” Matt laughed and swatted Shiro’s hands away playfully. When he turned back to Adam, there was a light in his eyes that had been rekindled somewhere in the conversation.

“Take care of him for us, Adam?”

He was touched. He gave a nod. “You got it,” then, glancing at Takashi, asked. “Space _dad?”_

Shiro groaned.


	5. When clouds cover the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Galra ruin everything, Adam has never had a prisoner before and Shiro exposes a part of himself no one expected to be there.

Several hours later, and much sweating as they moved the crates of supplies from Matt’s ship to Shiro’s, and Adam finally collapsed to the floor across from Takashi. Takashi was unpacking the small basket of wrapped food, laying out a gourmet cheerily.

“I can’t believe we’re having lunch on the floor of your giant, talking, flying lion ship weapon thing made from metal of another reality,” Adam said, watching with wide eyes. He had no clue who this Hunk was, but he was Adam’s new favorite person. How much food had he _sent?_

“You get used to it,” Takashi told him, chuckling. “Watch- the only thing Hunk will have forgotten to pack in here are plates and utensils. We might have to eat the food out of their containers with our hands.” He handed Adam a glass dish of steaming hot macaroni, the golden flakes still sizzling beneath tin foil. Adam’s mouth watered.

“Fine with me,” he grunted, setting it down between them. “I’ve eaten nastier things with less style,” he gently pealed back a corner of the dish. The steam fogged his glasses immediately and Adam recoiled, surprised, as Takashi set out the last thing, two cylinders of orange, bubbly liquid. Soda. Adam hadn’t had soda in _years._

“Bon appetite,” Takashi presented, waving two forks. Adam snatched his and dug into the macaroni with relish. “Hey! Leave some for me!”

“Get your own!”

“That is mine!”

“Then _fight me_ for it,” Takashi just laughed and leaned over to kiss his forehead affectionately. Adam pulled the dish into himself tightly, growling. “You used to accept challenges a lot easier,” he observed, suspiciously. Shiro shrugged and picked up a loaf of bread, tearing a piece off and popping into his mouth like candy.

“I have the patience of a saint, remember? You can’t eat it all. I’ll get my share,” his lax older brother vibe was somewhat disturbing, if only because Adam remembered a Takashi boiling over with energy and pride. This new mellow version was nice, but disconcerting. He shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” they ate in companionable silence until Adam had gorged himself. He put the still hot dish down and flopped unto his back. “Ugh. I hate you,” he groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. His stomach felt as if it weighed eighty pounds, limpid and puddling against his spine. He suddenly felt something warm and solid hovering over him.

Takashi pressed something against his mouth. Adam shook his head. He couldn’t take any more food. “Open up, you wimp,” fine. He was going to die of food consumption. That was fair.

Adam obeyed, and moaned as velvety chocolate slipped past his lips. “Why do you torture me?” He agonized, as the small ball melted in his mouth, running smooth rivulets down his tongue. It was so _good._ And he was so _full._

“You love chocolate!”

“I adore chocolate, and I hate you,” he agreed. Takashi chuckled, and then there were soft lips being pressed against Adam’s nose, then his cheeks and jugular.

“Mmm, I suppose I can’t compete with candy,” Takashi said against his right ear. Adam wondered vaguely if there had been a little _something_ in the chocolate, but he didn’t feel any different. Besides, he doubted Hunk or Takashi would have drugged the food.

Then again, would he really find offense if they had?

“Chocolate isn’t candy. It’s a separate category. Like oatmeal isn’t cereal,” he informed the other man, not moving from his agonized position. He did tilt his chin back a little, allowing Takashi to nibble on his neck.

“Alright, alright. When did you become so well-versed in food types?”

“Since all I had to eat was tubers and jerky. Are you sure you want to do this _here,_ in the cockpit of your semi-sentient lion?”

“She’s been inside my mind. She knows when I’m thinking about you.”

“First: weird. Second: when did you become an exhibitionist and why wasn’t it years ago when I wanted you to be one? Third: I’m in a food coma, Kashi, I can’t move. Go away.”

“I don’t need you to move. I need you to consent.”

Adam snorted, even as a deep shudder wracked his spine. Takashi’s hands had slipped beneath his shirt now, and his fingers were dancing along his stomach and ribs, teasing and light. His prosthetic felt like feathers against his skin. He swallowed hard.

“First: It _is_ weird, but I didn’t really get a choice. The lion chose me, ok? Second: I’m still not an exhibitionist. It’s not as if Black is _watching_ us. She just knows. Remember the night after you proposed when we stayed with your mom? How she just pretended to wash dishes but secretly…”

“You’re so creepy,” a heavy weight settled on his hips, and Adam jerked involuntarily. Burning pleasure seeped into his gut. He squirmed.

“Besides, what did you think I meant when I said alone time? Third: you started this last night. Prepare to be ravished,” he accentuated that point by flicking his nipples playfully. Their hips ground together, Adam’s pants suddenly felt too tight. Very tight. Like he couldn’t breathe tight… He groaned and lowered his arm, so he could squint at Takashi’s innocent face.

“You’re lucky you’re my type,” he groused. Takashi smiled and kissed him thoroughly, tongue slipping between Adam’s teeth. He relaxed into the hold, and when they finally broke apart for air, his lips were tingling and his heart thudding in his ears. Somehow, he’d allowed himself to be pinned, Takashi intertwining their fingers above his head. It was very, _very_ hot. “Er… I don’t mean to pry, but have you been practicing this or something?” Adam gasped, eyes rolling back in his head.

Takashi chuckled from where he was suckling Adam’s left earlobe. “I may have dreamt about it a few hundred times,” Adam let out a breathless exhalation at _that_ statement.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Just a few hundred, though. Usually in my dreams, you would be naked by now, but you seemed to have some reservations, so I decided to take things slow,” Slow. Adam hated slow. Slow was the very epitome of all evil in the world.

“Oh no, no reservations,” he assured him in a rush of breath. “It’s just that I feel as if all my bones, muscles, tendons and organs have been replaced with three cheese macaroni. Its less than ideal for this kind of thing, but if I don’t have to move…”

“No. No moving required,” Adam choked on a snigger, raising his head weakly to peer at Takashi’s mischievous smile.

He smiled. “You make me so happy,” he murmured. Takashi’s eyes softened into something infinitely tender. Adam let his head fall back. “Well, since I don’t have to move, by all means let’s… Oh. _Oh._ Takashi. Ha…”

“Commander!”                                       

“Is that yours?”

“Just… Ah… ignore it. Just… Shiro, _p-please…”_

“Commander Wright, come in!”

“It sounds serious.”

“Unless someone is _actively_ on fire, I don’t give a damn. Even then, I wouldn’t mind. Just keep going.”

“ _Adam,”_ Takashi scolded.

 “Commander, we captured one of the Galra,” Adam sat up so quickly he heard the blood rush from his ears. Takashi, also, had scrambled upright and snatched his small communication chip. He handed it to Adam promptly.

“W-what?” Adam stammered into the chip, his voice pitched high. He cleared his throat, tried again. “Its me. Repeat that last sentence.”

“We sent out a patrol an hour ago, sir. They found a Galra soldier near the base, captured him. He’s in our custody now, but no one knows what to do and no one can find Captain Shirogane anywhere,” Adam sighed and glanced at Takashi.

“The Captain is with me, don’t worry. We’re on our way back with supplies from the Garrison. Keep the prisoner company until I get there.”

“Yes, sir,”

He disconnected with a laborious sigh. Shiro climbed off him and offered a hand up. Adam took it. “Fuckin Galra,” he growled, levering himself upright. “Always ruin everything,” Takashi smiled, but his eyes had gone dark with something foreboding. “What? I can see you thinking.”

“Most Galra installations are controlled by droids. Actual soldiers rarely show up, and only when something important is at stake. Any stragglers should have been evacuated or rooted out by now,” he said, staring into the distance with eyes glazed over. Adam nodded slowly, trying to pat the wrinkles out of his clothes and slow his heartbeat.

“So?”

“So, if they have an actual Galra soldier, that means the Galra saw the Black Lion. They know I’m here, but that wouldn’t matter to them unless someone ordered them to spy on me. Or capture me, either one,” Adam approved of neither of those choices.

“Takashi, come on. Meaning?”

“Meaning the invasion isn’t over yet.”

 

* * *

 

They didn’t have a prison.

Adam regretted that now, but they had never needed one. The camp was primarily made up of refugees and a few trained fighters. It was rare that anyone made trouble, and even if it did happen, they usually just sent Irva or Elijah to deal with the perpetrator.

Thus, they held the prisoner in the food cellar. It was the dankest shack on the base, all fortified metal and packed dirt floors. Shelves of packaged jerky lined the walls. “He was alone,” Elijah reported promptly, when he noticed Adam marching over. Irva also stood outside the door, arms crossed as she glared into the shack.

A small crowd of people had gathered outside, voices quiet and eyes wide. When he approached, they stepped out of the way silently. He could feel more than one harsh glare on his back, the heavy tension in the air.

After all, this was one of the bastards who had destroyed their homes and killed their loved ones. Adam was surprised a mob hadn’t broken out already. “Are we sure?” He snapped, coming to a stop. He glanced inside. Someone had chained the Galra to a chair in the middle of the room. A bag had been shoved over his head.

“Yes. It looks like he was a single scout. We don’t know what he was looking for,” Elijah said. Takashi hovered over Adam’s shoulder, his body a steadying specter. Adam nodded, adjusted his glasses anxiously.

“Has anyone interrogated a prisoner before?” Takashi wondered, quietly. Elijah sighed and finicked with his sleeves. Adam shifted feet awkwardly. Irva just glared.

“Never even had a prisoner before,” Elijah finally grunted. “The Galra mainly attacked us in airstrikes. Any ground missions always resulted in _our_ people getting captured or killed, not the other way around. I hope you have more experience with this sort of thing,” he said. Takashi nodded. His expression was closed, calm. Yet there was a storm in his eyes, thundering determination and kindled rage.

“I do,” he agreed darkly. He glanced at Adam, and a slight smirk played on his lips. “Your call, commander,” he said, and though his expression was serious, Adam heard the underlying amusement. Snarky bastard.

“I trust your judgement, Captain,” he replied in the same tone. “I think we need information. Can you get it?”

“Yes,” Takashi’s shoulders suddenly straightened. “Sometimes, though, it takes a little… More. I’m just warning you,” Adam blinked, confused.

“You mean torture,” Irva guessed. Takashi gave a single nod, and Adam’s blood froze.

“Let’s try to avoid that,” he snapped immediately. “ _At all_ _costs_ ,” Takashi stared at him for a moment, as if silently testing his resolve to that statement. Adam narrowed his eyes at him, anger sparking beneath his skin.

Then, a nod. “Yes, sir,” Takashi said. Adam’s jaw clenched, and he gestured to the shack.

“He’s all yours, then,” Takashi nodded and disappeared into the shack, followed closely by Irva and Elijah. Adam turned to the crowd, he waved them away. “We’ll handle this! All of you back to your chores and quarters!” He ordered. He received a few disappointed mumbles and sneers, but upon glancing at the Black Lion, the crowd eventually dissipated.

Then, inhaling a steeling breath, Adam stepped into the dim shack. Someone had grabbed another chair. Shiro sat in it, directly across from the Galra, positioned so close their knees were touching. Irva and Elijah stood on either side of him, arms crossed. Adam leaned against the wall nearest to the door. He had seen Galra before, but only in the heat of battle. Their features disfigured by darkness, smoke, rage.

This was the species who had taken Omar from him.

Hatred curled hot in his stomach. He swallowed it down, struggling to keep his breathing even and calm. Takashi was leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Suddenly, his arm shot out quicker than a viper. He snatched the bag from the Galra’s head.

Their prisoner looked up, blinking sleepily. Had he been knocked out? Adam should have asked. “Where am I?” The monster slurred. Irva tensed to Shiro’s left, and Adam felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. He had only ever heard the Galra speaking their own language.

How _the hell_ did they know English?

Takashi remained unfazed. “Earth,” he answered. The Galra stared at him for a minute, squinting. As if he recognized him; but couldn’t quite place a name to the face. “You’re on Earth, and Admiral Sendak’s forces have been destroyed. The Ion cannons are decimated. Voltron won,” Shiro shoved a large knee conversationally. “What are you doing here?”

“I know you,” the Galra murmured. “I’ve seen you before, a long time ago now… You’re The Champion!” Adam tensed.

_“The Galra… They called me their Champion. I was supposed to be their weapon.”_

To his utter shock, Takashi just nodded. His mouth split open, exposing rows of gleaming white teeth. It was almost feral. “You saw me in the arena?” He inquired. The Galra nodded, now studying Takashi - _his Kashi_ \- with ill-disguised uneasiness. “Then you know what I’m capable of,” another nod. “Good. This should be easier, then. Tell me your name,” Irva let out an indignant squawk. Adam wasn’t sure if Takashi was insane or genius.

He suddenly felt dirty watching this.  The Galra was as confused as the rest of them. He eyed Shiro suspiciously, as if waiting for him to lash out. When Takashi didn’t move, he peeped, “Moltuk,” Takashi folded his hands in his lap patiently.

“Moltuk,” he repeated. “Good. What was your mission here, Moltuk? To spy on human rebels? To ascertain the whereabouts of the Black lion?” He was being very polite for an interrogator, but there was something in his stance that made Adam wonder if he would feel better if Takashi screamed. Sweat itched under his arms.

“I’ll never tell you, scum!” Moltuk growled, straining forward in his seat as if to bite him, but the chains around his wrists held him back.

“I don’t think you understand,” Takashi tutted, as if speaking to a disobedient child. “Zarkon is dead. Lotor is lost. The Galra Empire is in shambles. What are you fighting for, exactly?”

“The Galra is not dead until the last of us falls! We will find Voltron, we’ll defeat you! We’ll be conquerors!” The Galra roared. He suddenly leaned forward and spat directly into Takashi’s face.

Adam saw red. He stepped forward, fists clenching in fury. Elijah stopped him with a hand on his chest. Takashi just sighed. “So you don’t know who I am,” he lamented. Adam gasped as Takashi’s prosthetic suddenly let out a high-pitched whine, the crevices shining deep blue.

He shoved his fingers, now ramrod straight and buzzing angrily, near the Galra’s throat. Then, he started to speak. In the low, guttural syllables that Adam recognized as Galran. His heart skipped a beat. Every word that spilled from Shiro’s mouth was perfectly contained. He may as well as have been speaking to a fellow soldier. Yet Moltuk’s eyes widened, and he pressed his back to the chair fearfully, whimpering. Adam wondered what was being said.

He wondered if it was best that he didn’t know.

At last, Takashi stopped talking. His prosthetic didn’t move as his real hand came up and swiped the spit from his face. “Now,” he began again. “What were your orders?”

“I can’t tell you! You _know_ I can’t tell you!” Moltuk pleaded desperately.

“It can be something easy,” Takashi assuaged him. “Are you a scout?”

Moltuk looked away. The low whine of Takashi’s arm teetered into a deep growl. With the same deliberate tenderness that he had used to stroke Adam’s face the night before, he ran a glowing finger across the Galra’s left cheek. Purple skin sizzled and fell open, leaking blood. The Galra cried out and tried to jerk away.

“I know you understand the concept of being skinned alive,” Takashi said. Adam felt vomit slither up his throat. _What have they done to you, Kashi? What has this war made out of you?_ “I remember it being a favorite pastime of the druids. Is that who you obey? Haggar’s druids?”

“No! No!”

Takashi didn’t relent. He continued to swipe his finger across the Galran’s face, carving a thin line from eye to chin. “You’re a broken soldier anyway. No one is coming back for you. No one need know your shame. What’s one question to stop the fear?” Why did he sound as if he had rehearsed this?

Adam bit down a sob. “Alright!” Moltuk shrieked. “Alright, I’m a scout!” Takashi hummed, slowly removed his hand. It did not stop glowing, but he did set it on the Galran’s knee, in a movement almost friendly. Adam heard Elijah’s breath hitch.

“And?” Takashi wondered, arching a brow. The Galra wriggled in his seat, eyes glued to Shiro’s hand on his leg.

“Its hot,” he whimpered.

“It was taken from me by your Emperor,” Takashi replied, boredily. “And infused with dark magic, then taken again and given Altean quintessence. _Of course_ its hot. Now, you see how nice I’m being? Don’t you want me to be nice to you?” A frantic nod. “Then keep going. You’re a scout. What were you scouting for?”

Moltuk gulped loudly, then glanced at them over Takashi’s shoulder. “Are you just going to stand there and _watch this_?!” He yelled. Adam jumped, heart twisting at the desperation in his voice.

_They killed Omar,_ he reminded himself, smashing the instinctive pity in his gut. _They invaded our world. They brought this on themselves._

So why did he feel so sick?

Moltuk suddenly yelped, his entire leg jolting. Takashi’s arm hissed against his skin, twisting. “Don’t look at them,” Shiro scolded. “We’re _talking_ here. You’re not being nice to me. Why should I be nice to you?” Moltuk threw his head back and howled.

“Takashi!” Adam barked. “I said no torture!”

“You said _let’s try_ ,” Takashi corrected coldly. “Besides, I haven’t skinned him, have I? This wouldn’t even be considered torture by Galran standards. This is a _conversation,”_ Takashi never removed his eyes from Moltuk’s pained expression. “Now, Moltuk, continue. What were you looking for?”

“I was supposed to verify the Black Lion was here!” Moltuk shrieked, his words garbled with fear. Takashi lifted his hand, and he slumped into the chair, panting.

“Good,” he praised. “And how did you know the Black Lion was here?”

“There are still satellite stations orbiting the planet. Cloaked. We received word that The Black Lion was moving. I was supposed to find out what your objective was,” Moltuk said, dejectedly.

“How many stations?” Irva snapped.

Moltuk stared at her like a kicked puppy. “I _don’t know_ ,” he moaned. “They don’t tell me these things. I’m just a scout, ok?”

“Ok. I believe you,” Takashi assured him. Moltuk relaxed partially. “Who gave you the orders?”

“My superiors.”

“On planet?”

“I don’t…”

“Moltuk,” Takashi interrupted. “Be very sure of your answer. If I remain nice to you or not depends on your answer,” he warned. Moltuk hung his head.

“I will not betray my people,” he whispered.

“Your people are broken,” Takashi reminded him. “A new era is about to begin.”

“I don’t care! Vrepit Sa!”

“Victory or death,” Takashi translated thoughtfully. “I remember that. I was told that every time I was sent into the arena. I can respect that. Your people would be proud of you, Moltuk,” the alien raised his head, and snorted feebly.

“You don’t understand honor,” he muttered. Takashi shrugged.

“Maybe not,” he replied. “But I understand pain. I’ve seen your people torture and murder thousands of innocent people. As a Paladin of Voltron, I am sworn to avenge them all. Tell me, Moltuk, how many ways can a soldier die before he breaks?”

Moltuk released a sob. “An infinite amount.”

“Exactly,” Shiro crooned. Adam stared, shocked. This was the man he had woken up beside this morning. The man who had kissed him so gently and stared at him with affection and tenderness and compassion. The man who bragged about the Paladins and comforted Matt and seemed so _beautiful and good._

He was a monster.

“Should I begin, then?” Takashi inquired, lowering his hand.

Moltuk tried to throw himself backwards. “No! No!” He screamed. Adam surged forward, arm outstretched to intervene. Suddenly, his wrist was caught in a numbing grip. Takashi’s eyes swiveled up, and when they locked eyes, Adam didn’t see the man he loved. There was nothing there, just an endless abyss of fire.

He stumbled away, silent and heartbroken.

Elijah wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “This is war, lad,” he whispered into his ear. He sounded choked, but resolute. “It’s ugly.”

Adam just shook his head. This _wasn’t right._ Takashi turned back to the prisoner. “You’re not being nice to me. Why should I be nice to you?” He asked, squeezing Moltuk’s calf with the blazing hand. Moltuk wriggled in his bonds, _yowling_ like a wounded animal.

“My superiors are on planet!” Moltuk screamed. “They’re here!”

“Where?” Takashi asked.

“Not on this continent. Another one. Nearer to the other Paladins,” a spark of emotion in his eyes.

“Ready to attack?” He wondered. Moltuk shook his head. The muscles and veins in his neck popped out as he strained to pull away.

“I don’t know! We haven’t received orders to attack!” he cried.

“And who gives the orders?!” Shiro snapped. ” _Who_ , Moltuk?”

“Haggar! THE WITCH DOES!”

Takashi recoiled as if stung, his prosthetic snatched away. Moltuk’s leg spasmed, the skin down to the muscle burned black. Adam choked on the stench of burnt flesh in the air. “Who’s that?” Irva demanded brusquely.

“Haggar was Zarkon’s wife,” Takashi replied distantly. “She went missing years ago, with a final order for her underlings to exterminate any rebel movements. She is a powerful witch, capable of extreme feats of dark magic.”

“Magic?”

“I’ll explain later,” Takashi sighed. He ran a hand through his silver locks. Purple liquid smeared among them. Blood. “Moltuk, where is the witch?”

“No one knows! We only started receiving orders from her recently. On a secure frequency. She says that if we can capture Voltron and the Paladins, she can use their Quintessence to bring back Emperor Zarkon. He will bond with the Black Lion and then we’ll be unstoppable!”

“Zarkon is dead.”

“She can resurrect him. The Galra Empire would rise again with him as leader!”

“A life for a life,” Takashi murmured aloud. “She probably has Zarkon’s conscience stored somewhere, like the Black Lion stored me. She intends to infuse him into the lion using quintessence,” he leaned back in his chair. “That crazy bitch,” he cursed lightly. Adam was beyond confused, but it didn’t matter. He was done.

“Alright, this is over!” He growled. He realized that his throat was horse, as if _he_ had been screaming. His hands shook, and his face was tear stained. Takashi glanced at him tiredly.

 “I had no more questions anyway,” he agreed, as if he had simply been reading inquiries from a questionnaire. As if he hadn’t just tortured someone.

“What do we do with him now?” Elijah inquired softly. Adam opened his mouth to demand they get the poor, damn invader some medical attention when Moltuk opened his mouth. He gazed at Shiro desperately.

“Champion. You know I cannot return to my people. I am dishonored. I have disgraced my entire family,” he whispered.

Takashi nodded. “I know.”

“They’ll kill me, and then they’ll kill my family. I cannot go back.”

“I _know_ , Moltuk,” Takashi repeated, his eyes softening. “Voltron could help you. You could still..."

Moltuk shook his head. "I will not risk my family," he said, and it sounded like a decision and a plea all at once. Adam's eyes flickered between them, confused at the interchange. He could feel some... Bargain was being struck, but he couldn't ascertain what the terms were.

Shiro nodded. "Thank you for your help,” he leaned forward, arm humming.

“Captain?” Irva asked, uncertainly. Adam was moving before he could think about it. “What are you…?”

“SHIRO, NO!”

It was to late. Takashi slid his hands around Moltuk’s head, almost gingerly, and yanked. The Galra’s head snapped to the side with a sickening pop. He slumped into his chair as if someone had snipped his strings, head hanging on his shoulder limply. His neck was irrevocably broken.

Elijah vomited. Takashi stood, specks of blood decorating his hair and face, without the slightest shake. Whereas Adam’s entire body trembled. They faced each other, Adam with barely contained rage, and Takashi with an eerie calm.

Adam didn’t recognize him. “Your work here is done,” he growled. “Get out.”

Something like fear flickered in Takashi’s eyes. “Adam…”

“I SAID GET OUT!” Takashi’s face crumpled, momentarily. Then, eyes downcast, he took his leave quiet as a shadow. Adam trembled before the broken body of a dead soldier, someone he had watched tortured then murdered.

He screamed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. That happened. So, this chapter was mainly an acknowledgement that I feel like the show, with all of its vividness, neglected to show the impossible choices in war. Choices Shiro and Allura would have had to make. There were moments when Shiro showed some darkness when he was fighting, and I don't think he hated all Galra, but he was leading five inexperienced pilots with limited resources, help and opportunities. Space dad had to make some tough decisions.


	6. Solar Eclipse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse before they get better.

He hid himself away in his apartment for hours afterward.

He didn’t see Takashi in all that time, nor did he summon him or go looking. For the first twenty minutes, Adam had been hunched over his meager toilet, vomiting all the three-cheese macaroni he had left. When that was done, he had retreated to his bed, mind spinning with Elijah’s earlier words.

_“Go easy on him, Adam,” the elder man said. His voice was hoarse, his breath rancid from earlier throw-up. They stopped outside the door to Adam’s apartment, shivering. “You learn terrible things in war. He’s been fighting longer than any of us,” he said._

_“I don’t care how long someone fights,” Adam seethed. “Its no excuse to become a monster!” Elijah studied him sadly._

_“You ain’t angry like a friend. You’re actin betrayed,” he observed slyly. “Only time I’d ever seen you this mad was at Omar,” the name felt like a kick in the gut. Adam crossed his arms and looked away. He missed Omar **so** much right now…_

_Would he have become this, had he lived? Would he eventually have transformed into someone who didn’t blink at cruelty or manipulation?_

_Adam shivered. “I asked Takashi to marry me once,” he finally admitted. No use in hiding it now. “Before Kerberos,” Elijah’s eyes widened._

_“I see,” He murmured._

_Adam blinked away tears. “But the man I was going to marry is **not** the same monster we just saw! My Kashi couldn’t even kill **spiders,** much less torture prisoners. He was kind and optimistic and proud and… and… What happened to him out there, Elijah? What happened to the man I loved?” He choked._

_Elijah pulled him into a tight hug. Adam buried his face in his shoulder; and let out a tight sob. “Hey, hush now Adam. You hush. Until you step in another man’s shoes, you can’t judge him for how he acts,” Elijah pulled back, tipped Adam’s chin so that he could rub away his tears with his thumbs. Adam had never known his father. He had been raised by his mother and aunt, but if he had, he would have wanted him to be like Elijah._

_“Not all is lost, ya hear? Not all is lost. The man you loved is probably still in there somewhere. He’s just been eclipsed by a little darkness, that’s all,” he made it sound so easy, as if Takashi had simply gotten lost at sea and returned with a slingshot that he used to hunt birds. Even that would have been better._

_“No,” Adam sniffed. “No, I think he’s just gone.”_

“I should have known,” Adam growled now, swirling around. He smashed a fist against the kitchen wall. “I should have known!” He had been overjoyed to see Takashi again. To hold him and speak to him and kiss him. But hadn’t he said it a million times since Omar had died? Hadn’t he accepted it yet?

_“Maybe I’m just meant to be alone. Maybe I don’t deserve to be loved.”_

“Argh!” Adam shouted, slamming his hands against the counter. He squeezed his eyes shut angrily, felt tears leak from the corners. He was so _stupid._ How could he think that Takashi would just come home to him? The man Adam had known was dead. He was only gifted a shadow in return. An imposter that Adam had believed with all his heart.

He should have known.

His tattoo flashed at him from the corner of his eyes. Adam pressed his lips against the name. “I miss you Omar,” he shuddered. “I couldn’t save you either. If I had just convinced Shiro not to go on that fuckin mission. If I had told you _no_ when you wanted to save those fake rebels. But I didn’t, and now you’re both gone,” he shook his head and pushed himself up, ran a hand down his face.

_I won’t let this break me._

He had survived four years of hiding from the Galra and leading a damn rebellion after all. He had lost two husbands, his mother and aunt, his title and every part of his old life he had loved. He could stay rational. He could survive this.

He didn’t need to be happy to live. Some people didn’t get that luxury. Fine. So be it.

“I have work to do,” he reminded himself determinedly. Moltuk’s body still had to be burned or buried or whatever. Then he had to inventory all the foodstuffs Matt had delivered. Then he had to start arranging an evacuation. The war was ending. It was time to start flying refugees out of here. To go home.

Omar had died for this. Adam wouldn’t let him down. Sniffling, he hurried into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He grabbed his only other pair of clothing, the kind that _didn’t_ smell like Takashi, and started toward the door.

He opened it. And nearly bowled headfirst into Takashi. 

_Fuck._

Takashi looked just as startled as Adam felt. His lowered his right hand, which had been raised as if to knock. Adam’s eyes scanned him emotionlessly. He was wearing casual pants, and a t-shirt with the Garrison logo inscribed on the front. He had showered sometime in the past few hours.

The blood was gone from his hair. His skin glowed a healthy peachish color, and the prosthetic hovered by his elbow, also thoroughly cleaned. He smelled like fresh pine needles and wind.

His eyes, once cold, were now filled with a bone-deep weariness. He looked like Takashi again, beautiful and touched by stars. Adam arched his brow, heart thundering in his ears. _Tell him to fuck off, Adam._

“Did you need something?” He asked. _That wasn’t what I was going for. Damn it._

Takashi nodded. “We should talk,” he suggested.

_Now. Now is when you tell him to fuck off._

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Adam. Please. Let me… Let me explain.”

_Why haven’t you said it yet?_

Adam swallowed the lump in his throat, staring into Shiro’s sincere gray eyes. “Why should I?” he whispered, and he sounded weaker than he wanted too. He wanted to sound strong, as if nothing and no one could break him. As if he was resigned to being alone and unhappy and _it was fine._

Takashi was stumped. He opened and closed his mouth, several times. Adam waited. Then, “because this isn’t going to be like last time. I’m not going to just _leave_ you without a word.” Adam stepped aside.

“You’d better come in then.”

_I’m an idiot._

Takashi had always been able to do that to him, though. Reduce him to less than a man and more of a desperate, needy child. Takashi walked into the room like a thief being led to his execution. They sat across from each other at the table by unspoken agreement. Shiro sighed and looked away. Leftover fury from today’s interrogation curdled in his gut. He clenched his hands.

“Adam…”

“You tortured him,” he said curtly. Takashi scrubbed his real hand over his face tiredly.

“I _retrieved_ information,” he said, in the same tone he used to take with their classmates when he was trying to remain patient. Adam gritted his teeth hard enough to crack one.

He was not a child.

“By slicing his face and burning his leg, Takashi. I don’t care how you word it, it was _torture!”_ He cried. Takashi spread his hands pacifically.

“And what was I supposed to do, Adam? Do you think had I asked him nicely, he would have just told me what I wanted? No. The Galra are fanatics. Extremists. There is no reasoning with them that doesn’t involve some external pressure.”

“I don’t want your excuses,” Adam hissed.

“I don’t want your naiveite!” Takashi snapped back. “You’ve fought the Galra for three years, Adam. I’ve done it for _six._ I’ve been a slave. I’ve been a soldier. I have seen every scenario play out. The ones where we let him go, the ones where we try to keep him detained. None of it works. That was the _only way_!”

“I refuse to believe that. I refuse to become _like them_ ,” he said, striving to keep his voice level. These walls were thin enough as it is, and he didn’t need the entire base knowing that he was having a moral qualm with his ex-fiancé. “There had to be a better strategy. We just needed to find it,” he argued.

“With what time? You heard him. There are Galra still on planet,” yes, and wasn’t that just the cherry on top of Adam’s day? “Haggar is _alive._ She’s searching for Voltron. For the _Paladins_!” Takashi’s eyes burned like twin lanterns. “The minute they get their hands on them…!”

“Oh,” Adam scoffed. “Now I see.”

Takashi sat back in his chair like a toddler, folding his arms as he glared at Adam over the edge of his nose. “What?!” He barked.

“This was about the Paladins, all along.”

“So?” He genuinely looked confused. Adam threw up his hands.

“Takashi, you just tortured and murdered a man to keep them safe. That doesn’t bother you? That doesn’t compute as _crossing a line?”_

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep them safe, Adam. _Nothing._ They’re my family. If it were Omar…” Agony lanced through his gut at the name. He thrust a censorious finger beneath Takashi’s nose.

“Don’t you _dare.”_

Takashi pressed on. “Wouldn’t you have done _anything_ to keep him safe? Crossed whatever line and fought any enemy?”

“Yes, but I would not have _become_ the enemy to do so!” Takashi fell back in his seat. They lapsed into silence, Adam’s heart hammering in his ears.

Then, “they would have done the same for me,” he replied. _Oh, Kashi, what happened to you?_ Adam gazed at his best friend with sorrow.

“That doesn’t register as wrong in your eyes, either?” he tried again, even as his hope began to wither. “That a bunch of _kids_ would turn to _torture_ to save you? Listen to yourself, Takashi! These are not the words of a sane man!”

“No, they are the words of a _soldier_ ,” Takashi bit out. “Listen, Adam, I know the Galra. And as you saw, they _know_ me. Moltuk wasn’t going to say anything without some pressure, and had I sent him back, he would have been tortured by his own people to figure out what he told us, and then killed! Did you not see the fear on his face? He was _begging_ me to kill him.”

“And you did. Without blinking.”

“If you think I killed him without any regret, you don’t know me at all.”

“That’s what I’m starting to understand, Takashi. I don’t know you at all. The man I was going to marry…”

“You _left_ that man!” Takashi hissed. “You left, and I was kidnapped, tortured and enslaved by aliens. The man you knew is gone!” Adam closed his eyes as grief threatened to drown him. Again. He had spent six years missing Takashi, mourning a man who apparently had died years ago. Now he could barely stand the sight of him.

Takashi grabbed his hands, pleading. “Don’t look back, look _at me._ I’m still Takashi. Please, Adam,” his voice cracked. “I still love you.”

Adam opened his eyes. “Takashi… How do we move on from here? I don’t know if I can reconcile the man who fed me chocolate with the man who tortured a prisoner,” he cried. Takashi shook his head.

“They’re the same person.”

Adam gulped. “That terrifies me,” he admitted in a small voice. Takashi’s expression was momentarily gutted. He released Adam’s hands, turned away.

“You’ve changed too,” he sighed.

“Yes, I have. I’ve done things I’m not proud of,” Adam agreed, though he had a feeling that wasn’t what Takashi had meant. “I’ve killed Galra, but only when they were armed and on a battlefield. Like a soldier. I’ve never been an executioner, and I’m not sure I could ever love one either.”

“Well then…” Takashi shrugged violently, jaw clenched. They glanced at each other, two unmovable stones. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, Adam, but this is who I am. My sole purpose for the past six years has been to defend the universe and protect the Paladins. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do to achieve that goal. I’m not going to change now.”

Adam felt tears sting in his eyes. “Do you recognize this argument?” He laughed softly. “Before Kerberos, when I _begged_ you not to go, but you insisted. It was your dream, and you weren’t giving up on it. It was just who you were, and you weren’t gonna change then.”

Takashi laughed too, but there was no joy in it. “I guess I’m still the same person after all.”

“Yes. I guess so.”

“Adam…” Takashi stood, his fists clenched into loose fists at his sides. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I wish I could be the kind of person you deserve.”

“I wish that too,” Adam stood. He itched to touch Takashi, to hold him. Instead he just stared. “You’ve always been the stronger of us, Kashi. The strongest man I know. You’ll find your way back. You’ll be alright, I know it,” he murmured.

Takashi squeezed his arm. “You’re the best man I know. You always will be… Maybe… Just maybe some people aren’t meant to be happy?” He gave a sad smile, which Adam reciprocated.

“Maybe some people are just meant to be alone,” he agreed. Takashi gave his arm one last squeeze, studying his face as if he expected never to see it again. Then, with military precision, he pivoted on a heel and left. He didn’t look back.

_You should have told him to fuck off._

There were a lot of things Adam should have done. He hadn’t and now his world was gone. The last time he and Takashi had separated like this, it had taken Adam two whole hours before he collapsed. Twenty seconds passed before his legs gave out, and he slumped to his knees.

He buried his face in his hands and wept.


	7. Vrepit Sa Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Allura have a conversation about love, Adam confesses his undying stubbornness and they make whole wheat bread jokes.

He retreated to the last haven he had on this side of the Earth.

Black’s cockpit thrummed to life beneath his feet. Shiro dragged himself into the pilot’s seat the same way he had a million times before. During battles and after defeats, when he had been so exhausted his bones had felt like cement beneath his skin.

In Black’s conscious, there were no pilot chairs, nothing but boundless space and stars. Yet Shiro had been able to hear and feel it when others came aboard, his every sense attuned to an outside world he could not partake in.

That hadn’t destroyed him. Being a slave hadn’t, trapped in an endless plain alone hadn’t broken him. He wondered why this felt as if it might. Adam’s furious voice spat in the back of his mind.

_“I’ve never been an executioner, and I’m not sure I could ever love one either.”_

He collapsed into the chair heavily, leaned forward to grab fistfuls of hair. Heat buzzed beneath his skin, and Shiro realized dimly that he was hyperventilating, each breath surging from his lungs as if it had been punched out. Spittle dripped down his chin. Sendak’s floating reprimand, from years earlier, followed.

_“Did you really think a monster like you could be a Voltron Paladin?”_

Shiro gagged on a sob _. Calm, cub,_ Black told him, her presence a balance between stern and caring. _Calm. You have work to do._

She was right. In moments when Shiro had felt paralyzed by doubt, fear, despair, he had always turned his mind to the physical. _What can I do right now? How can I make it better right now?_ It was a useful tool in combating his PTSD.

Yet this time when Shiro slumped into his chair, his soul did not flutter to life. The concept of a mission, of being helpful, did not invigorate him.

Before, he had at least hoped he could return to Earth some day and reclaim a semblance of his old life. His grandparents were dead. Adam was… Well. Soon even the Paladins would leave. Shiro had never felt more alone.

Black growled as she pulled up the communication screen. _Work._

Yes, yes. Work. Shiro tapped his fingers against the armrest and debated who to contact first. The logical answer was Keith. He was still the official leader of Voltron, after all, injured or not.

He also knew Shiro better than almost anyone, and two years in the Abyss with Krolia had made him scarily adept at identifying strong emotion. Shiro wasn’t emotionally prepared to listen to Keith rant and threaten Adam’s life right now. Or ever, really. Lance would likely react the same way, so he was out.

Finally, Shiro settled on the safest option. He typed in the frequency; and sat back to wait. Allura answered almost immediately, her thick white hair draped over one shoulder in a tight braid. “Shiro!” She cried. In the background he could hear Coran and Romelle arguing heatedly. Allura turned to scowl in the general vicinity of their voices.

“Could you two, possibly, grab me some more of this orange juice?” She called, in a tone that suggested she was two seconds away from strangling them both. Shiro felt a flare of affection in his chest. Now _this_ was a familiar scene. This has been home for six years.

“I will, princess!” Romelle yelled. “Since _Coran_ is rarely of any use!”

”I have served the Princess for ten-thousand years and more, _youngling_. I will procure the orange juice!” Coran snapped in reply. Shiro would have grinned if his heart didn’t feel as if it would sink out of his chest any moment now. There was a loud slam behind Allura as he assumed Coran and Romelle stormed off.

Allura turned back to the screen, rolling her eyes. “They’ve become… Competitive over my recovery,” she explained.

At least Shiro could be sure someone was taking her health seriously. He doubted Allura would. “So I see.”

“How are you, Shiro? How’s Adam?” Hearing his name caused a lump to grow in Shiro’s throat, but he swallowed it back down.

“We have a problem, Allura,” he reported quietly. Allura straightened in the hospital bed, the cheer in her eyes darkening into worry.

“What is it?” Shiro quickly summarized everything he had learned from Moltuk, mentioning the satellites and the Galra commanders on planet. When he finished, Allura’s lips pinched together tightly. She heaved a sigh.

“I should have _known_ the witch would come up eventually,” she supposed. “It’s been three decapheobes. I had hoped…” She shook her head, and Shiro felt her coiled frustration miles away.

He shared it. He wanted that witch dead. “It could have been that Sendak himself was reporting directly to her. We’ll place _The Atlas_ on high alert,” her sharp eyes tore into his soul. “Are you safe there?”

“Not for long.”

“Acknowledged. Perhaps its best if you return to _The Atlas_ for awhile,” she suggested. Shiro contemplated that idea for a minute. Half of him wanted to run away now, and never look back. He wanted to forget this night, as he had forgotten a thousand nights of his captivity. Then Elijah’s curved smile flashed before his eyes. His hands clenched against his seat.

“I can’t,” he admitted reluctantly. “There are still thousands of people here. Refugees. If I can give them a chance to be reunited with their families, I want to take it,” thankfully, Allura did not argue with him. They had made these kinds of decisions before.

“Very well. Be careful,” _for what reason? No one needs me anymore_. They lapsed into a companionable silence in which Allura squinted at him suspiciously. Shiro pretended not to notice.  “Shiro… Why did you tell me this? Why not Keith?” He gulped. Trust Allura to catch his pain.

Once, he and Allura had been equals, comrades leading a group of children into innumerous battles. He had bonded with Allura before any of the Paladins, really, the dual pressure and past experiences with the Galra easing the passage into genuine friendship. His clone had damaged that relationship, but Shiro still felt it. He still trusted her judgement.

“In order to get information,” he relayed, slowly. “I had to use… Drastic measures,” Allura arched a brow, but said nothing. She did not necessarily condone torture, but that was why it had fallen to Shiro. He was the soldier. She was the diplomat, even as she accepted the harsh realities of war and he understood the dangerous scruples of diplomacy.

“Yes?” She pushed.

“The Rebels here have never had a prisoner, much less seen one interrogated,” he looked away. “Adam was… Well, he was horrified,” Allura’s eyes widened as she caught the implication.

“Oh, Shiro,” she whispered. “What did he say?”

Shiro clenched his jaw. He would not cry. “We argued about it, just like we always do. I tried to explain to him, but… in the end, I’d do it again. I’d do it every time if it helped keep people safe. I told him that,” he replied. Then, voice cracking, “he agreed that maybe some people just aren’t meant to be happy.”

Despite his best efforts, one tear dribbled down his nose, then another. Allura made a sympathetic noise in the back of her throat. “My father craved peace above all else,” she began softly. “When I look around at what the Galra have done to so many worlds, I know he’d be horrified. Yet I wonder, at times, if he would condone some of the actions I’ve taken to stop them… I hope I have made him proud, but I also know that some part of him would be ashamed.”

Shiro shook his head. “Your father would have been honored by you,” he told her, his voice slipping into command naturally. Allura gazed at him as one would a particularly idiotic but beloved relative.

“Adam _should_ be honored by you. You’re a hero.”

“He thinks I’m a monster, Allura,” he choked out. “And what if I am? What if I am _exactly_ what Haggar made me to be, a weapon and nothing else?”

Allura snapped upright so quickly Shiro thought she’d been shocked. “That is not true!” She protested vehemently. “How could you even _say_ that? If you were anything like Haggar, then you wouldn’t be so kind or selfless and you certainly wouldn’t be so hard on yourself!” She yelled. He blinked away tears, and her voice softened. “Shiro, come back to The _Atlas_. Come home. There are people here who love you.”

“I have work to finish.”

“We can send another to finish your task. You need not suffer another moment, you don’t deserve it. Please, Shiro, come home.”

_“It’s time you went home, Soldier.”_

He had no home. He had only his work. Shiro rubbed his hands together absently, listening to the subtle hum of his prosthetic. The action allowed numbness to sink over him again. “No. No, I won’t abandon these people. I won’t even abandon Adam, despite what he thinks of me. I’m staying. Thank you Allura, I just… I needed someone level headed to tell me I did the right thing,” he said. Allura harrumphed and folded her arms over her chest.

“You _always_ do the right thing, Shiro. It’s one of the reasons we love you so much. I assume you don’t want the others to know about the _Adam Situation_ quite yet?” Shiro’s mouth quirked into a bitter half smile.

“I appreciate your discretion, princess,” he agreed.

Allura sighed and nodded. “Very well. I cannot promise Keith won’t infer something and bombard you with calls-” Shiro wasn’t that much of an optimist either “-but rest assured we’ll keep our eyes open here. In the meantime, take care, Shiro. Finish your work quickly. We miss you.”

“I miss you guys too,” he admitted in a whisper. _So much_.

Allura gave him another crooked, sad smile. Her image blinked away like a dying star, leaving him in the semi-darkness of the Black Lion’s cockpit. Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose as a migraine began to throb behind his temples.

He remembered the day when Adam and he had first argued over Kerberos. He wondered what would have happened if he’d listened to him.

 _You would be dead anyway_ , Black reminded him callously.

“Maybe that would have been better,” he murmured. She growled in disagreement, worry and rage mingling in the back of their bond. Shiro sighed and patted the armrest. “It’s just you and me, then, Black,” he supposed. “Just like the good old days, right?” A purr.

“Actually, I’m here too,” a third voice interjected quietly. Shiro gasped and launched himself from the seat without thinking. He swiped his prosthetic beneath his right arm, pointing it spear-like beneath the intruder’s chin and how had anyone gotten in here anyway?

His stomach dropped when Adam’s face was illuminated by the dark blue of his arm. His chocolate eyes were red-rimmed, expression grave. He arched his brows at Shiro silently, a challenge. Shiro jumped back as if something had stung him.

“What… How did you…?” He stammered.

“Black let me in,” Adam explained, sounding a little surprised himself. He gave an awkward half-shrug. “I asked her too.”

Shiro dared to let hope nibble at the edges of his numbness. “Why?”

“Listen,” Adam began, in a voice Shiro had never heard before. It was commanding, unwavering, the voice of a man who had stared death in the face, trembling and determined. A man who carried that dual terror and determination with him.  “Just listen. Don’t talk, ok?” He waited until Shiro nodded, gesturing for him to continue. Adam inhaled a shuddering breath, fists clenching and relaxing at his side.

  “I just cried myself to sleep; and had a dream of you in Moltuk’s place. You were tied to a chair while those damn Galra tortured you. I listened to you scream wishing I could take your place. I’ve had nightmares every night since Sam told me you were alive. I would dream you were floating in space, cold and alone, slowly starving as your oxygen ran out. I always wake feeling as if someone has torn my soul out by the roots and thrown it into a fire. I never stopped blaming myself for your death, Takashi. Never. I still haven’t forgiven myself for Omar’s, but I am _tired_ of waking up empty and shaking and in tears. Aren’t you?”

Shiro rocked back on his heels, momentarily shocked by Adam’s anger. He nodded shakily. God, he was tired. He was exhausted every day he woke up and every night when he laid down to sleep.

It had become that he couldn’t recall what it meant not to jump into action every time someone came behind him. What it meant not to discuss battle strategies at the dinner table. What it was not to wake up in the night, crying out, as the vestiges of nightmare clung to his psyche.

“Yes,” he whispered. Adam nodded.

“Thought so. Now… I love you. I left you years ago because I was terrified of who I would become when I lost you. But like you said, this can’t be like last time. I am terrified of what this war has done to you, and to me, and to our world, but I refuse to believe that I can’t change things!” Adam’s eyes blazed with a fire Shiro felt ignite in his own heart.

“I didn’t accept my circumstances when the Galra invaded,” Adam pointed out, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and feet tapping impatiently, eyebrows twitching agitatedly. It was if his entire body was involved with his speech.

“I didn’t just lie down and _die_ when my ship crashed or when Elijah had to amputate my arm, or when we ran out of water in the desert or when I had a plane full of people and little fuel. I didn’t give in when Tokyo fell. I didn’t give in when Omar died. I _survived!”_ Shiro flinched, taken aback by the sudden pang he felt in his own chest. _I_ _wish_ _you_ _hadn’t_ _been_ _forced_ _to_ _survive_ , he thought, even as his soul responded with a fierce kick.

_I won’t let this break me._

“I refuse to accept the idea that some people weren’t meant to be happy or some people don’t deserve to be loved. I will _fight_ that idea and I will _fight_ the Galra and despair and oppression until the fight _kills_ me or until I win! VREPIT SA! Now,” Adam shoved his hands into his pockets, tipped his chin so he peered down at Shiro over his glasses rim. “Are you going to fight with me?”

Shiro hadn’t felt this determined to live since The Galra had thrown him into the Arena for the first time. Adrenaline coursed through his body as if it were a battle. He grinned, savagely. “Hell yeah I will.”

Adam’s entire body abruptly stilled, and then sagged with relief. “Good,” he said, sounding choked. “Because I _can’t_ lose you again, Kashi. Ever.”

“You’re… I mean, I… Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

Adam looked as if he wanted to stomp his foot. “It has to be what you want, too!” Shiro grinned past the tears obscuring his vision. He was wrapping Adam in his arms the next second, burying his face in the crook of his neck where his nose fit perfectly.

“Adam, there hasn’t been a single day in six years when I have not loved you. I’d follow you to the ends of the galaxy,” he sighed. “You know I’m still going to do what needs to be done?” he wondered quietly.

Adam, clinging to him with as much desperation, nodded against his shoulder. “Just like you know I will never stop seeking a _better way._ You’re the strong one. I’m the emotional one. Together we’re perfect, like whole wheat bread,” that shocked a laugh out of him.

Once he started, he couldn’t stop. Shiro’s knees gave out and he slid to the floor, clutching his aching sides. Tears came to his eyes. Adam followed him, now caught in helpless laughter himself. They laid on their backs, shoulders touching, laughing until they ran out of breath.

Shiro opened his eyes and stared at the purple lined ceiling. “Ah… Ah, I love you,” he wheezed, swiping the tears from his eyes. “ _Whole wheat_ bread?”

Adam giggled. “How else was I supposed to end that speech?” He inquired. Shiro smacked his chest with the back of his hand, prompting another round of snickers.

“Asshole. I thought you hated me,” he accused.

“I _really_ tried,” Adam agreed. They still wouldn’t meet eyes, gazes on the ceiling. “When I left all those years ago, I tried to make myself hate you. Honestly, me threatening to leave was supposed to be a bluff, you idiot. I thought I could shock you into not going,” he said.

“It almost worked,” Shiro admitted, with a pang. “I almost turned in my resignation to Sam _so many_ times, Adam. But I thought _no, he’ll come around. He wouldn’t leave me_ , and when you didn’t come…”

“When you went anyway…”

“I was _heartbroken,”_ they finished in unison.

Shiro sighed and rolled unto his side to gaze down at Adam’s face. He swiped away a tear that trickled beneath his glasses. “How can you do this?” he whispered. “I’ve tortured before, Adam. I’ve killed. I was _built_ to kill,” he flexed up his mechanical arm. Adam stared at it listlessly. “How can you forgive me?”

“Because I can’t breathe unless you’re in the damn room,” Adam drawled. “I told you. I have a type. It’s a problem. But Shiro, it may scare me what you’re willing to do, but _you_ don’t scare me. I’ve seen you naked, cry, laugh, drunk, burn pancakes, throw chairs and that time you nearly punched Iverson, remember? Everyone else thinks you’re impressive, but I just think you’re cute,” he pinched Shiro’s cheek playfully. Shiro slapped his hands away.

“Stop!” he begged.

Adam laughed. “I know you better than I know myself. You’re a good man. That’s why it so hurts me to see you so… Violent. Not you. I know what you’re capable of, and that?” He shook his head. “That’s not it.”

Shiro smiled. “You always thought more highly of me than I thought of myself.”

“Touché,” Adam ribbed. “But it doesn’t matter now.”

“It does. I want to be a man _worthy_ of you, Adam. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re so old-fashioned and honorable,” Adam teased. “It’s cute and ignorant. Kashi, you’re a war hero. If anything, I should have to prove myself worthy of _you._ No, no,” he said, when Shiro opened his mouth to argue. “It’s true. I know it is. It was the same with Omar. I will live a thousand years and still not be worthy of you, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try anyway.”

“Vrepit Sa?”

“All the way, babe.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how The Galra envisioned anyone using their phrase.”

“Fuck the Galra.”

“So, which one of us is whole and which one is the wheat?” Adam cackled.

“Um... I don’t know. I didn’t get that far in the metaphor. I guess neither one of us is whole anymore,” he held up his own prosthetic. Shiro did the same, studied their reflections in the smooth metals.

“We may not be whole,” he speculated aloud. “But I’d say we’re pretty damn resilient. Listen, I know Omar made that arm for you, but if you want…”

“No,” Adam interrupted gently. “I appreciate it, but… It’s the last reminder I have of him besides our rings. I’ll keep it, if only so I never forget what happened to him.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Either of our deaths,” he promised. Adam hummed beneath his breath, studying the hand in the faded light. Shiro pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I know you don’t believe that now, but it’s true.”

“Does it… _Bother you_ , that I want to keep this and the ring he gave me?”

“Absolutely not. You loved him. I understand. So long as you also want to keep the ring that I’m going to give you,” he froze as he realized the implications of his statement. Adam’s eyes shot up to his face.

“Takashi… You’d better not be proposing to me on the cold, hard ground of your living lion ship after I just made a whole wheat bread joke,” he warned. Shiro laughed.

“I’m not. Don’t get me wrong, I love you more than life, but… We still have a lot to cover,” he said. Adam exhaled a breath of relief.  

“Glad we’re on the same page. I love you too. By the way, Elijah found me outside my room earlier, and I may have told him you’re my ex-fiancé,” Shiro struggled to hold back a grin. It had been so long since he had been claimed by anyone, and to be known as _Adam’s_ again after so many years made his heart pulse a little quicker.

“Yeah…?” He inquired.

Adam avoided his gaze. “Elijah has by now told _everyone._ I just wanted to give you a head’s up, just in case you weren’t comfortable…”

“Everyone I know already knows about our past,” Shiro reminded him, nonchalantly. “I don’t mind. Question is, what are we now?”

Adam scoffed. “I already told you. Whole wheat bread,” Shiro laughed and nudged his side.

 “Really, Adam!”

Adam nudged him back. “Best friends who argue a lot?”

“Hey, I was feeding you chocolate earlier.”

“As a form of _seduction,_ you asshole,” Adam laughed, sitting up. “Speaking of which, usually tonight all the officers get together. We go over things… Privately. A kind of party. I’m supposed to be there. Wanna be my date?”

Shiro frowned. “Is this you saying we’re dating?”

“This is… This is me saying I don’t know. Still. After everything that’s happened today and the past few years, I don’t know what we are other than screwed in the head. Just give me time? Please?”

Shiro grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, hating the wobble in Adam’s voice. _As if I could say no at this point._ “Hey, you waited for me. I can wait for you,” he said.

“Thank you. But seriously, do you want to come?”

Shiro hesitated. “Are you sure I’ll be welcome out there after what I did today?” He asked, seriously. “Because I don’t know I have it in me to fight another moral battle,” Adam snorted.

“Anyone who has something to say can fight me.”

“I don’t want to affect your standing in the…”

“Takashi. I’m not ashamed of you. Scared _for_ you, always, but not ashamed. Besides, thanks to you,” Adam’s grin was enough to make his heart skip two beats. “The war is over. I don’t need to be commander anymore,” he said with such blatant tenderness that Shiro blushed.

“The fight isn’t over,” he stammered. Adam shrugged and got to his feet, pulling Shiro after him.

“Yeah, but what do I need anyone else for? I have you to fight with me.”

“Alright, alright, _enough…”_ He said, trying to regain his composure.  His stomach fluttered into knots at Adam’s support. It was the same feeling he’d had years ago when he’d warned Adam about his disease.

 _“I don’t want you to invest in a dying relationship,”_ he’d cried, eyes wide as he beheld Adam on one knee. _“Literally. I’ll probably pass before the age of thirty, Adam, how can you even **want** to marry me?”_

Adam’s answer had kept him alive through Galra imprisonment, a seemingly impossible war and countless nights of sleepless PTSD attacks.

_“We’re all going to die, Kashi. I just don’t want to die without having loved you first.”_

Shiro cleared his throat. “I’ll be your date. Let’s go.”


	8. Bridging a Gap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Shiro attend an officer's party, contemplate hair dye and Shiro finally tries to explain the intricacies of his life. It, obviously, goes as well as you'd expect.

To his surprise, no one else mentioned Moltuk’s demise.

He was greeted with the same level of camaraderie as Adam. Whether that was Elijah’s doing or Irva’s, he couldn’t say. _The hand holding might have had something to do with it,_ he contemplated, languidly from where he had cloistered himself in a quiet corner. The communications hub was small enough as it was, but twenty-five officers all packed into the space made his skin crawl with claustrophobia.

Besides, he was content to watch Adam, who had only released his protective grip on Shiro’s hand a few minutes prior. He flitted between the groups of officers like a moth dancing around flame. At one moment, he was playing cards or chatting in amiable groups, accepted easily wherever he wandered.

Their eyes kept meeting across the room, sizzling glances that made Shiro simultaneously blush and want to press Adam against the wall. Maybe later. They hadn’t finished what Shiro had begun in Black, after all. The thought made Shiro sigh in contentment. He leaned against a rickety table, careful not to disturb the strategically placed maps and charts overflowing the surface.

Elijah approached him from the left. Shiro gave him a smile as they both leaned against the table to watch the proceedings. “Accordin’ to those lovin’ glances, I can assume all is well?” Elijah inquired quietly, handing Shiro his third cup of _Sake_.

So far, he had only taken a few cautious sips, hiding the other cups behind him. Granted, he had had alcohol before, but space vodka and Earth fermented alcohol were very different. His stomach roiled, trying to readjust to the unfamiliar chemicals.

Also, where had they gotten sake anyway?

He hummed beneath his breath. “We’re good,” he agreed. Elijah made an approving noise in the back of his throat.

“Told him,” he boasted, aiming a triumphant grin in Adam’s direction. Adam studiously avoided looking their way for once. Shiro laughed and dipped his head.

“Adam told me how you amputated him arm to save him. I can’t thank you enough for that,” he began, hoping his sincerity bled through his words. He had never been the best at expressing his emotions. Elijah shrugged.

“Eh, it wasn’t something I’m particularly proud of, see. We didn’t have no medicine or nothing, but it had to be done. I’m glad I did it. He’s a good man, Adam.”

“The best.”

“He tell you bout Omar?” Shiro nodded.

“I wish I could have met him,” he admitted. Elijah tipped his cup back, gulped the sake like a dying man. “He sounds like a good man.” _Even though a part of me hates his guts._

“He was. He and Adam were _inseparable_. I worried for him when Omar passed. It was a real dark time. Then you came back… I haven’t seen Adam smile in years, but seeing you has lifted his soul again, I think,” Shiro’s heart blazed. He glanced to the side, where Adam had his head bowed, listening intently to a freckled man with a round face. He looked so attentive, so easygoing. So happy. It was a look Shiro had feared he’d never see again.

“Well, he’s certainly lifted mine,” he breathed.

“I don’t know if you know this, but Adam tried looking for you,” Shiro choked on his next inhale and spent a few minutes hacking up his lungs. Adam looked over, startled, but Shiro waved his concern away.

“He thought I was dead,” he argued through a burning throat. “The Kerberos mission was destroyed, and he didn’t know I was alive until Sam told him.”

“Ah, you are a well-traveled man, but you have a lot to learn,” Elijah drawled, stretching his arms over his head. He didn’t meet Shiro’s gaze. “My wife’s been dead for fifteen years now. I still walk into the room and start looking around for her. Death is something we understand _here,_ maybe,” he tapped his temple. “But not here,” a rough jab on his chest that made Shiro take a hurried step backward.

“I figured after he met Omar, he would have just … moved on, I guess. I don’t begrudge him that,” Shiro supposed.  

“Adam’s a quiet one when you first meet him, but you know he feels deeper than that. When we first got up here, he built ‘imself a telescope that could peek into that other universe. He would go up, up,” Elijah gestured to the destroyed mountains, staring at a spot just beyond Shiro’s shoulder.

“He would stare up at the sky for hours, as if he might catch the sight of ya up there. Used to drive Omar insane cause the Galra would circle overhead, and he was afraid one of them might catch sight of Adam,” Shiro’s stomach dropped. He glanced around to see if anyone else was near enough to hear their conversation. The party continued, unabated.

He wanted to stop Elijah, but… His curiosity got the better of him. “He did that every night?”

“Not every night, no. But most of them. Eventually, we had to dismantle the telescope for the parts. Adam put on a brave face, but he couldn’t watch them take it apart,” he squinted. “He never told you?”

“We haven’t really talked much about what happened to us when we were,” his voice cracked. “Apart. It’s painful, but my grandparents always did say he was a stubborn man.”

Elijah studied his face intently. “Bet your grandparents are damn proud of ya now,” Shiro shrugged.

“I hope so, anyway,” he murmured. Elijah put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, I know _I’m_ proud staring at you. Proud to be human, proud to be a soldier. You even impressed Irva. You know hard it is to impress _Irva?”_ He demanded. Shiro chuckled softly, and let his eyes follow Elijah’s gaze to where it rested on the hardened former-marine.

She was, true to character, arm wrestling another man in the far corner, her lips pulled up in a joyful snarl. Her arm muscles bulged, a bluish vein popping out of her bicep like an IV. Shiro remembered that she had trained Adam. He had fought monsters, but he felt an itch of nervousness when he thought about fighting her in hand to hand.

Shiro shook his head. “Thank you, Elijah. There were times I never thought I’d see Earth again, but I’m glad I made it, if only so I could meet you,” he told the older man. Elijah cackled.

“Ah, boy,” Elijah huffed. “You’re gonna make an old man emotional! Lookit you, sweetest heart ever to live. When you and Adam gettin hitched?” If Shiro hadn’t been anticipating that question all night, he might have choked on his breath again. As it was, the possibility tickled him.

“Not any time soon,” he demurred, once again flitting his gaze over Adam. He had his back to them, but Shiro could see the smooth contours of muscle outlined in his shirt. _Very nice._

“Damn shame. _I’d_ marry you at this point,” Shiro snickered. Once, the joke might have unsettled him, but he had helped Allura with enough diplomatic dinners that harmless flirting did nothing but bounce off his shoulders.

“I’ll keep that in mind, in case things between Adam and I don’t work out,” he quipped with a wink. Elijah threw his neck back to roar with laughter. Shiro snickered a little too, surprised at himself. Adam wandered over to their corner, tangling his long fingers between Shiro’s.

“Alright! I have a feeling I need to break up whatever is going on over here,” he interjected. He tugged at Shiro’s hand. “C’mon you. We’ve had a long day.”

“Ah, no, not yet,” Elijah argued, tugging at Shiro’s other arm. “I still have stories to swap with you Captain. You want some embarrassing stories about Adam?” Suddenly, Irva was there too, pressing herself between Adam and Shiro with a predatory smile and sweat glistening her brow.

“Oh, we have quite a few of those,” she purred. Shiro could smell the sickly-sweet sake rolling from her mouth. Adam’s expression was one of thinly veiled horror. Shiro nodded.

“I’d be forever in your debt.”

 

**_Later:_ **

Shiro hadn’t laughed so hard in _years._ He was still trying to regain his breath between helpless chortles when they staggered into Adam’s apartment.

“Ok, laugh it up buddy. I think you’re slightly tipsy from like, ten sips of sake. Elijah shouldn’t have been telling you those ridiculous stories anyway,” Adam growled, storming past him in a whirlwind of exaggerated anger. Shiro just sunk against the door, holding his sides as they spasmed with more laughter.

“You… Ah, you tried to… Butcher a chicken? _You?_ Adam, you were raised in Seattle!” He cried. Adam was grumbling curses as he stood over the stove. He set a tea kettle on the boiler.

“I’m well aware, thank you. I figured it wouldn’t be that hard!” He called as Shiro slowly stumbled over to the table. He sat in his lawn chair, lungs heaving.

“Except you tried… To catch him and… And…” He cackled again, imagining the scene Irva and Elijah had described. Adam racing through the frost-laden grounds of the compound, waddling from a recently sprained ankle as he tried to capture and butcher a chicken.

“You know what? You should be ashamed of yourself!” Adam hissed. “You’re supporting a monster. That chicken was racist,” Shiro felt tears run down his face as he buried his face in his hands, shaking with snorts.

“He was… He was _what?_ Adam…” He tried, but Adam interrupted him curtly.

“He only attacked me! He never went for Irva or any of the other white people. I’m telling you Kashi, he…” Adam threw up his hands in defeat. “Would you stop _laughing_ at me?” He demanded. Shiro waved a weak hand from where he was dying at the table.

“Oh… Oh, please, stop!” He begged, wheezing. “Stop, I can’t breathe!”

“Serves you _right,”_ Adam replied huffily. He set a cup of oolong tea in front of Shiro, steam wafting to fog his glasses as he narrowed his eyes at Shiro over the rim of his own cup. _“_ How much sake did you have anyway?”

“I’m not… Not drunk… I just… Oh, man. The image of you trying to catch a chicken in the winter forest was…” He gave into another round of helpless snickers. Adam rolled his eyes. Shiro giggled when rough and calloused hands wrapped around his shoulders from behind. “Ah, Adam, don’t. Don’t touch me. I literally will pee myself,” he pleaded.

“Kashi,” Adam whined, pressing his temple against Shiro’s left shoulder. “I need you to be on my side. Say it with me. It was a _racist chicken,”_ he cajoled.

“Adam!”

His lover chuckled and nuzzled the shell of Shiro’s ear. Day old stubble scratched the sensitive skin, which only made him laugh harder.  “I like hearing you laugh,” Adam murmured. Shiro was unable to answer for several minutes, and even then, his voice was hoarse. He swiped away tears.

“Ah… I haven’t laughed that hard since I was twelve. I like Elijah and Irva,” he offered. Adam huffed against his neck.

“Of course you do. I heard you and Elijah over there conspiring against me,” he said. Shiro didn’t deny it. He just lolled his head around, so he could smile into Adam’s eyes.

“He said he’d marry me if things between us didn’t work out,” he explained cheerily. Adam’s brows arched as he snorted, but he didn’t look at all surprised.

“Should I be jealous?” He wondered.

“Hmm, if you want to be. He’s not bad looking…”

Adam recoiled as if he had been burnt, slapping Shiro on the back of the head. “Ok stop. Stop, stop, stop! That man is like my _father,_ you weirdo,” he cried. “That’s like me checking Keith out. Gross. You’re totally tipsy,” he accused.

“I’m _not,”_ Shiro insisted. “I’m just… Happy,” he blushed at his own forthrightness. They were silent a moment, before Adam gently cupped his face. He tilted Shiro’s chin back with his fingers, letting him lean back against his stomach. They met eyes, Adam’s were dancing.

“Yeah?” his breath tickled Shiro’s lips.

He nodded, and they shared a long kiss that left Shiro more breathless than the laughter. “Can I dye your hair?” Adam wondered when they separated.

“What? You don’t like the white?” Shiro asked, taken aback by the sudden change in subject. Adam studied him thoughtfully.

“No, I do, it’s just… It makes you look sad sometimes. I hate that. I want you to always look like _this,_ giddy with happiness,” he stated. Shiro gave him a look he hoped accurately conveyed _you’re such a romantic sap._ Adam’s answering scowl confirmed he had succeeded.

“And what color would do that?” Shiro wondered. Adam hummed and ran his fingers through Shiro’s hair contemplatively. He closed his eyes as Adam’s warm palms massaged his scalp.

“I don’t know. Purple, maybe? For the Black Lion?”

“Keith pilots the lion most days now. I have Atlas, remember? It’s all white.”

“What about blue, then? To match your arm?”

Shiro considered that for a moment. Suddenly, a memory of The Castle of Lions flashed before his eyes, the soft blue lighting that had seeped from every crevice and light source aboard ship. His heart gave a pang of longing. He hadn’t been present for the destruction of their home, but he missed it just as keenly as the others. “Allura and Coran would like that,” he answered. “I guess I could. My whole head?”

“No. Maybe just highlights. Ooh, and we could add black. You’d look like a total young hipster, Takashi, it’d be wonderful.”

 _Nope. Never mind. No blue_. “No.”

Adam laughed. “Come on!”

“Nope. I’m too old in spirit for that. Don’t you remember the others call me space dad?” He asked.

“I do," Adam harrumphed. He tilted his head, one eyebrow arched questioningly. "Which is strange because you said you never wanted children.”

“I didn’t think I’d live long enough to have any,” Shiro corrected. “Why do you think I mentored Keith? I figured I could change the life of one child before I went. Now he’s a grown man and the others are basically adults," the moment the words exited his mouth, Shiro realized how true it was. The Paladins hadn't exactly been toddlers when he met them (well, not physically at any rate) but when he thought about how much they'd grown, he was awestruck. 

Adam's bright smile was hopeful when he asked “so, kids?”

Shiro blushed and nodded.  “One day, yeah. I did love mentoring The Paladins, even if they aren’t actually my kids, really, they’re more like siblings,” very troublesome siblings.

“Same thing,” Adam supposed. “I’m glad. You were always great with kids, and I want a family. Well, a bigger one, anyway. But back to dyeing your hair…”

“Adam...” Shiro groaned, rubbing his eyes. He capitulated beneath Adam’s pouting expression. “Fine, it used to be black with a white bang. I didn’t _hate_ that, I guess.”

“It was…? Did you have hair dye _in space_?” Then, shriller, “you dyed your hair _without me_ in space?” he demanded.

Shiro cleared his throat. “No, it uh, it happened while I was a slave. Some kind of chemical or magic, I don’t know. They tried it on me and…My bangs turned white? It was painful.”

 “Oh Kashi… I’m sorry I asked.”

“No. No, ask me whatever you want,” he looked up into Adam’s worried expression. “I mean it, Adam. A lot of it is painful, or will probably hurt you more than it hurts me now, but… I trust you. I love you. And if I learned any lesson from today, it’s that there’s still so much we don’t know about each other. I want to start bridging that gap. You’re my best friend. Ask me.”

Silence. Adam squeezed his shoulders, mouth pinched into a thin line. “You’ll let me know if I’ve gone too far? Or something is too painful to talk about?” He asked quietly. 

He pressed Adam’s hand between both of his. “I promise.”

“Ok,” Adam inhaled a deep breath. “Then hold on a minute. I’m really going to need a drink for this,” he said. Shiro chuckled as he scampered over to the kitchen and pulled out a wine bottle. The outer surface was frosted over with dust that Adam swiped away.

“Where’d you get that?” Shiro demanded.

“It was aboard the plane we stole in Denver to get over here. Omar and I were saving it for a rough night. I think this will qualify.”

“Are you…?”

“I’m sure.”

He poured them two glasses and Shiro sipped the sweet tanginess of the wine. “French,” he guessed, smacking his lips.

“Whatever, you wine freak,” he smiled at the meager joke. Adam took his seat across from him and fidgeted with his glasses uneasily. “Ok. Damn it, this is harder than I thought it would be.”

“Its fine, Adam. Look at me. Remember I’m here. We both survived.”

“Thank _God,”_ he agreed fervently. “Ok. You said Keith pilots Black mostly these days because you were out of commission for a while,” a nod. “Why? Were you wounded? Captured?” The response popped out before he could think about it.

“No, I died,” he inhaled sharply when Adam’s face suddenly bleached a grayish chalky color. His eyes behind his glasses widened, his pupils dilating with shock. His hands beneath Shiro’s shook.

 _“What?”_ He squeaked.

“Let me start at the beginning,” he hurried to clarify. Adam nodded weakly, looking as if he might pass out any minute now. So Shiro inhaled a deep breath and told him about the origins of Voltron, how Zarkon had once been the Black Paladin and they had fought a strenuous mental battle for the lion every time they were in the same vicinity. How their fight with the Galra had been explosive and heart breaking and Shiro was never prouder of his friends than when he thought about that battle.

He told Adam how Zarkon had tried building his own version of Voltron, and in the end, connecting so closely had been his demise, how The Black Lion had held his essence in her conscious where Shiro had taken the time to reconcile his past as a slave and the terrible memories that came back to him while in the Void.

By the time he had explained the intricacies of Keith’s final battle with his clone and how Allura had transferred his consciousness, it was nearly two o clock in the morning. Adam hadn’t moved during the story. One hand was locked tight in Shiro’s, but otherwise Adam’s eyes remained locked on the table in front of him. 

Then, “so this isn’t even _you_?” he croaked.

Damn it. Shiro had forgotten how strange this could seem to someone who hadn’t seen magical flying castles and the thousands of clone pods in Galra facilities. Why was it he could never seem to assuage Adam?

 “Not my original body, no,” he croaked. “This is a clone’s body created by the Galra, but _it is_ me, Adam. My conscious, my essence, my soul,” he lowered his voice. “It’s why I’m cured. No more disease. The Galra would never stoop to creating such a defective model, so they stripped it from my DNA,” he reported. Adam scowled so bad it scoured grooves into his face.

“Did it hurt?” He whispered. “Your death? Did… Did you suffer?”

“No,” Shiro assured him, rubbing Adam’s arm with his prosthetic. “No, Adam, it didn’t hurt,” Adam jolted.

“Don’t _lie to me_ , Shiro!”

“I’m not lying,” he cried, taken aback by Adam’s anger. “I wouldn’t. Adam, I really didn’t feel anything. My original body was evaporated on the spot, it was instant. I didn’t even know what had happened to me when I woke up in The Void.”

“And you were there, for months, alone?”

“Not necessarily. I could still feel what was happening. I just couldn’t interact. Kind of like being forced to watch TV for hours on end. When I wasn’t doing that, I was… Reliving some stuff,” Adam gave a tight nod.

“Like your torture.”

Shiro cringed. “Yeah. Adam, please believe me. I know it sounds crazy but…”

“No, this _is_ crazy, Takashi,” Adam interrupted. His eyes softened when he looked up. “But I believe you. You were never one for making stuff up, and even if you were…” he scoffed a desperate laugh. “Who _else_ would this happen too!?” Adam slammed his hand down on the table and stood.

Shiro watched him worriedly. “Are you alright?” he asked softly.

Adam was pacing. “Why wouldn’t I be? I just learned that my best friend died in battle, and then was resurrected by aliens. Damn it, Kashi, I had nightmares about your death for years. _Years._ Why does this happen to everyone I love?”

“Adam _I’m here._ Maybe not the original me, but…”

“I wasn’t there!” Adam hissed. “I _should_ have been there for you.”

“How?” Shiro demanded aghast. “Adam, you were there through every test and every success I had before Kerberos. You did everything you could to get me to stay, we argued about it for weeks. I _chose_ my path, and I survived it.”

“You should have fucking listened to me!” Adam yelled.

“I know.”

“You _died,_ Takashi!”

“And came back,” he stood, grabbed Adam’s face in his hands. “I came _back to you_. The Black Lion, The Paladins… They all saved me. I am fine. I am _right here,_ Adam,” he stressed. Adam closed his eyes, exhaled a shuddering breath.

“Remind me to write that Lion a thank you card,” he sighed. Shiro chuckled and pressed his forehead to Adam’s, gently releasing him to slide his palms over his shoulders and down his arms. He realized, belatedly, that there were tears on his face. “And to hug those damn cadets.”

“I will,” Shiro promised. “Are you angry?”

“At myself? Yes. I should have drugged you before I let you step foot on that damn ship for Kerberos, but… Then you’d have died anyway. Omar would have died anyway. I’m never strong enough to save the people I care about,” Shiro tugged him close, rested his chin on Adam’s head. The frames of his glasses dug into Shiro’s collarbone painfully.

“Listen, I will repeat this for however long it takes for you to believe me, _it was not your fault._ Me getting abducted, Omar passing, nothing was because of you. If anything, you have always been the greatest light in my life. I know he felt the same and I also know how much you want to protect everyone, Adam… But you can’t protect us from our own stupidity,” he quirked a smile. “Like you said, I should have fucking listened to you.”

Adam’s face was wet with tears. “Is it wrong that I’m so happy you’re home? Not just because that means you’re safe, but because I don’t know if could have gone one more day without you?” Shiro released a long sigh, gently carded his fingers through Adam’s hair.

“It isn’t wrong,” he whispered. “After all, I feel the same way.”

 


	9. Pompeii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro does something nice, Adam tries to defeat the Champion and things begin falling into place

“You are _late, commander,”_ Irva informed him, with the same voice Iverson used to employ when wrangling particularly troublesome cadets. Shiro cringed at her disappointment. Adam just snorted and crossed his arms. They were almost two hours late, as a matter of fact.

“You didn’t have to wait around,” Adam pointed out, wandering over to the weapon’s wrack.

“We’re sorry!” Takashi blurted. Adam rolled his eyes. Granted, he did feel slightly guilty for making Irva wait this long, but they had stayed up until two-o-clock in the morning.

Takashi had told him more stories, ones of survival and carnage as well as the funnier ones between him and the Paladins. Adam had tentatively shared some tales about his and Omar’s first dates, as well as the friends Adam had lost to the Galra, the hardships they had endured through foodless winters and sticky summers.

When they had finally succumbed to the lure of slumber, it had been in the lawn chairs. Adam had woken up that morning with a severe crick in his neck, and with one leg having gone completely numb. He had also woken up cradled in Takashi’s arms like an infant, his left cheek flattened against his chest and arms wrapped loosely around his neck.

His knees had been tucked into Shiro’s ribs as he slumped into the seat, holding Adam as if his life depended on it. It was a little embarrassing; but hearing Takashi’s heartbeat had soothed him. The luxurious shoulder massage he had been given him hadn’t hurt matters either.

After ascertaining that they had been asleep for far longer than usual, they had then commenced with sumptuous, _long_ love-making in the shower. That had led to severe pruning except in a few places which had been thoroughly cleaned, recleaned and now throbbed with a dull ache in Adam’s deep muscles. He resisted the urge to fawn over the memories. It still hurt.

Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it.

Now they stood before Irva like disciplined schoolboys. Only Adam didn’t care that they had been late. He was pleasantly achy and aglow with bliss after their post-coital workout. It emboldened him. “We are _not_ sorry,” he argued, snatching Pompeii from where she leaned against the far wall. “Can’t you see we’re in love, Irva?” he demanded.

 Takashi turned to glare at him with wide eyes and red cheeks. Idiot. As if they hadn’t said _I love you_ at least twenty times the previous night. And another twenty-two in the shower.

The ex-marine crossed her arms, something low and dangerous flashing in her eyes. “Do I _look like_ I care about your love?” She snapped. “Don’t forget you have a job here, commander. And _you,”_ she jabbed a finger in Shiro’s direction. “Captain Shirogane, what have you been doing?” A surge of protectiveness heated his skin. He opened his mouth to rebuttal, but a steadying hand landed on his shoulder.

“I sent the list of everyone’s names and social security back to the Garrison. Leaders there are trying to match everyone here with relatives who we’ve catalogued as survivors. In the meantime, once the ships are fully charged, I’ve ordered for a few planes to come and pick us up. You’re leaving this place within the next week, Irva,” he reported. Adam and Irva blinked at him. “What?”

“When did you have time to do all that?” Adam asked. Takashi shrugged.

“It doesn’t take much…”

Adam snorted. The man’s modesty was irritating at times. “Yes, it does,” he argued lightly. Takashi shrugged, squeezed his shoulder.

“Yeah, well,” he smiled sheepishly. “Less than fighting a war. Anyway, Irva, once we get you to the capital, then we can see about that prosthetic,” he offered. Irva stiffened imperceptibly, but she nodded.  Shiro eyed her quietly, judging something, before he asked. “May I ask who it’s for?”

Irva’s throat moved. “My son,” she replied. Adam gasped.

“You _procreated?_ Ow, Kashi!”

“Where is he now?” Takashi wondered. Irva shrugged.

“He was in Mexico last I heard from him. Hiding out in an underground bunker with other survivors, attacking Galra scouts by night. He had just returned from a long stint in Cambodia. There wasn’t any conflict, but… He lost a leg. Stepped on an old landmine. He’s been using a…” Irva swallowed hard, eyes slipping closed briefly. “He’s been using a stick as a crutch ever since,” Shiro cringed. Adam felt a flood of sympathy.

“How long has it been?”

“Communications keep failing in their bunker. I’m not even sure he knows the war is over. I haven’t spoken to him in three weeks,” Adam exchanged a worried glance with Takashi. Communication was everything in a war. If Irva’s son was using _a stick_ for a prosthetic, likely infection would have set in long ago, and without medical supplies or a way to communicate with the outside world…It could be fatal.

Takashi pursed his lips and Adam grinned. He would recognize that face anywhere. _He’s going to have an idea in three, two, one…_

“Do you have coordinates?” _I still got it._ Adam crossed his arms and watched Irva arch deep maroon eyebrows.  

“No. We never shared our exact location, just in case the Galra were listening. Why?” a spark of hope lit her eyes, and Adam grinned. “Do you have an idea?”

“I do. You said an underground bunker?”

“Yes.”

Takashi nodded and raised his prosthetic. He tapped at the wrist a few times, and suddenly a holo-screen popped up. Adam inhaled sharply when a brown, rounded face appeared. The person’s cheeks had two purple/bluish? Diamonds on them, and his ears were… What the hell? “Shiro!” The man cried in a voice pitched high with excitement.

“Coran,” Takashi greeted as Adam and Irva gawked.

“Have you been able to do that _this entire time?”_ Adam screeched.

“How are you? Matt said you were getting some sleep?” Coran wondered, setting his chin in long, steepled fingers and cocking his head at Takashi, almost like a wayward puppy.

Shiro smiled. “Everything is great, Coran. Listen, is Iverson with you?” Nope. No. If they were calling Iverson Adam had to see this. He pressed in close to his lover, peering into the screen. Irva crowded in from the opposite side.  

“He is,” Coran turned, and hollered over his shoulder. “Commander Iverson! Shiro is on the line for you!” The image suddenly spun, as if Coran were turning quickly. Then, Iverson’s well-beloved and well-feared face reappeared. His one eye wandered over Shiro’s face, as if searching for something, then danced to Adam’s.

“Lieutenant Wright!” He gasped. Adam grinned and saluted, a biref flare of warmth in his chest. He was beyond glad to see someone from the Garrison.

“Good to see you again, old friend,” he said. Then, remembering, “oh, and if we ever reunite in person, I’m going to throttle you for _strapping Takashi to a table without telling me he was alive_ ,” he warned, with utmost optimism.

“Ha ha! Thank you!” Coran’s voice whooped from the background. Adam decided he liked Coran. Iverson looked appropriately concerned.

“If he’d told you I was alive and _then_ strapped me to a table, would that have been better?” Takashi grumbled. “Iverson, listen, I need you to send the MFE fighters out to Mexico. Have them scan the ground for any underground bunkers,” Iverson cocked his head.

“Survivors, captain?”

“Yes,” Takashi replied, glancing at Irva. Her bottom lip quivered and Adam’s heart broke. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Injured. I need you to evacuate them and get them aboard. Ask Sam if he can prepare one of his newest prosthetic legs, too,” Iverson nodded.

“Yes sir,” he replied, and Adam felt a jolt of pride hearing their old teacher refer to Takashi with such respect. This was the man who had screamed at them whenever they missed a homework assignment, and now he gazed at Takashi as if he was good incarnate.

Which was true, but still.

“It was good to see you again, Adam,” Iverson said, his last good eye scrunching in sincerity. Or maybe doubt, Adam couldn’t remember how they used to differentiate between the two. “Take care.”

Adam smiled. “You too,” _but don’t think I won’t kill you when I get the chance._

“Shiro!” Coran cried, as the screen rolled back to his face. Irva drifted away, inhaling deep breaths to compose herself. “The Paladins are driving everyone aboard ship insane!” He announced, in a distinctly whiny voice. Adam’s chest tightened. As much as everyone seemed to complain about these Paladins, did he even _want_ to meet them?

Takashi laughed. “How’s their physical therapy going?” he asked.

Coran twirled an orange mustache. “They don’t even need to do it anymore. I managed to recreate a very primitive model of the healing pod. Each of them has been in it, so Hunk’s cast came off. Most of them are capable of walking around, though your earth physicians don’t trust my technology enough to sign off on them fighting yet,” Coran made an odd huffing noise, long arms crossing over his chest like a large toddler. Adam studied him curiously. He would have thought aliens would be more… Serious-looking, maybe?

“It won’t hurt them to take it easy a few more days,” Takashi clucked, brows furrowing in that worried older brother way again. Adam’s stomach roiled again. When he had met Takashi, he had already possessed a small shadow named Keith, so Adam was used to the sight. However, knowing that his brotherly instincts had expanded to include five other people was a little different.

_“There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep them safe, Adam. Nothing. They’re my family…”_

Adam really hoped they liked him. Otherwise Kashi might never talk to him again.

“It’ll hurt the rest of us who must listen to them complain,” Coran glanced at him, and Adam inhaled sharply when he noticed his eyes were lilac. Actually lilac. He stared, entranced. “When are you coming back?” Coran continued, eyes flicking back to Takashi.

He squeezed Adam’s hand out of range of the screen. Adam returned the pressure. They hadn’t talked about Takashi… Leaving. Adam knew he would have too, eventually, he was Captain of _The Atlas_ after all. The world needed him.

 _So do I,_ he thought, chest constricting painfully.

“I’ll be back soon, Coran, just… Hold down the fort for me a little longer?”

Coran sighed histrionically. “I suppose I can,” he said. Coran’s eyes snapped back to his face, and Adam tried not squirm. “Is that Adam next to you?”

“Yes. Coran, this is Adam. Adam, Coran,” Adam waved.

“Hi Coran. Kashi’s told me a lot about you,” he replied. Coran let out a wheezing chuckle.

“Kashi, eh? That’s _adorable_ , Shiro.”

Adam snickered. “Aren’t we?”

For his good humor, he was shoved lightly. Takashi narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Stop it Coran. You haven’t been giving Iverson a hard time, have you?”

“He strapped you to a table. Of course I have.”

Takashi opened his mouth (probably to try and give Iverson some stupid excuse) but Adam interrupted. “Thank you, Coran!” He cried, glad that _someone_ was on his side for once. Coran sniffed and eyed Shiro gloatingly.

“You’re quite welcome Adam. Well, I must get back to work now. There’s quite a bit happening here. Allura told us about this Haggar business and the entire Garrison is preparing for whatever may come. Be careful out there, Shiro.”

“You got it Coran,” then with a final wink in his direction (yes, _one_ of the aliens liked him) Coran’s face vanished in a blip of light. Adam’s shoulders unwound as Irva made her way back over to them, her usual scowl reapplied, even as her coal eyes glinted with gratitude. Adam smiled.

 “Captain,” she began, staring into Shiro’s face seriously. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay you for this…” Her eyebrows shot up when Takashi only snorted and took her hands into his, earnestly.  

“It was my _pleasure,_ Irva, really. Adam has told me how many times you’ve had to step in and save his hide,” Adam stuck out his tongue and coiled an arm around Irva’s neck companionably, pulling her flush against his side in a one-armed hug. For once, she let him. “This was the least I could do. Thank you, Irva, for saving the love of my life,” oh. Well. Adam cleared his throat, cheeks burning a dull red, even as his stomach fluttered with happiness at those words.

Irva’s smile was watery. “You two _are_ adorable,” she murmured.

“If you say so,” Takashi chirped. Adam took a swing at his head, which unfortunately missed. “Alright, enough. I don’t suppose you’d mind if I joined in the training today?”

She shrugged. “I welcome all opportunities to watch someone knock commander Wright down a peg or two.”

“Hey!”

Takashi’s grin was distinctly predatory. “Excellent,” he purred.

“Oh yeah?” Adam felt competitiveness roil in his chest. He held Pompeii out proudly. “Well, Shiro, _this_ is Pompeii. She’s saved my life more times than I can say,” he introduced Takashi to his metal pipe.

Takashi arched a brow and executed a gentlemanly bow. “A pleasure,” he drawled. Adam bit his bottom lip hold back his laughter. Irva stepped back, arms crossed so she could chaperone their match. The way her brows thundered gave Adam the impression that they were particularly irritating toddlers.

It wasn’t a bad comparison.

“I haven’t named my arm,” Takashi admitted, as the blue veins started to fill, his fingers aglow with strange light. “Still, somehow I’m not intimidated by a pole named after an ancient, destroyed city,” The way he said it made Adam’s deep muscles throb again, but he only swung Pompeii experimentally, testing the grip and weight for maybe the thousandth time since he had first found the metal pole.

“Your mistake,” he supposed. Takashi dared to snort in response. Adam sniffed and snapped into a defensive stance in the middle of the courtyard. “Ok then. A dare. If I win, I get to dye your hair any color I want,” Takashi arched a brow.

“Yeah? Ok. If I win, you have to tattoo my name on your _other_ wrist.”

Adam laughed, delighted. “I _knew_ you were jealous! What, you want me to stamp your name into the metal of my prosthetic?” He demanded. Takashi’s arm buzzed as it powered to life. He swung it behind him like a sword, the pointed tips of his fingers giving him that exact impression.

A mild shrug. “If you want to tattoo your forehead, I’m ok with that too,” Adam crooked his finger in a _come-hither_ motion.

“Funny guy, huh? Come at me then, Shirogane. Prepare to lose.”

 “Are you sure about this?” Takashi asked, smile slipping. He nodded to Pompeii. “Technically my hand could easily slice through that metal,” he sounded so worried but really the image that inspired was badass. Adam couldn’t say that, though, so he only repeated the motion with his fingers and smirked.

“Again, you think you’re so violent and mysterious, but I just think you’re a bunny rabbit. Or a chinchilla.” Irva’s groan cut through the courtyard. She scrubbed her hands over her face tiredly.

“Would you two _please_ fight already?!” She yelled.

Adam opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, he heard the now familiar whir of power. He lunged to the right instinctively, swiping Pompeii against the dirt as he set a stance. He eyes Takashi warily, noted the way he held himself upright. He wasn’t rooted like Adam had expected. Instead he balanced on his toes, as if ready to dodge any minute now.

Adam swung Pompeii over his head, listened to the gentle swoosh become a loud whir as he built velocity, then he jabbed at Takashi’s knees. Takashi sailed over his attack in an aerial cartwheel that momentarily took Adam’s breath away. Takashi landed low, then surged upwards. Adam ducked the punch that would have given him a nasty black eye, laughing.

He danced away, blood singing. “Not bad,” Takashi praised, watching him from the ground, body swaying back and forth with the lightness and dexterity of a snake. It was oddly hypnotizing. Adam planted his feet and set his staff into the ground, leaned against it casually.

“Not bad yourself,” he echoed. “But I’m still _waiting,_ Shiro.”

“Not for long,” Takashi replied, and reared back as if preparing to throw a baseball. Instead of a baseball, however, his arm sailed across the courtyard straight at Adam’s feet. He gasped and somersaulted to the side. Irva, on the sidelines, let out an exhilarated whoop. Adam noted that a few more spectators had joined her surveillance absentmindedly.

He was not losing this contest to a man who once hadn’t even been able to kill _spiders._ “Ha ha! Now _that’s_ an arm!” Irva crowed. Adam was about to retort when Takashi recalled his arm, and it sailed like a blue comet back to its place near his body. Adam ducked the blow, felt the heated metal ghost across his back.

_Now._

Adam ran straight at his opponent. Takashi smirked and danced on his toes, hands held in front of him in a daring fist.

When he was close enough, Adam dropped to his knees, letting his momentum carry him between Takashi’s legs as he Pompeii held over his head like a sacrifice. The bar snapped Shiro’s legs from beneath him, sending him crashing to the ground in a flare of dust and a cry of surprise.

The crowd cheered. “Too slow!” Adam crowed, head spinning with adrenaline. He scrambled upright, already swinging Pompeii to the side for a final blow.

His blow was met with a decisive _ding_ as Takashi caught Pompeii in his prosthetic inches from his chest. Their eyes locked. Takashi’s grin enveloped his entire face, the blue light of his prosthetic outlining the sharp contours of cheeks and forehead, the angelic light of his silver hair.

He was so _beautiful_.

“You never cease to amaze me, _watashi no ai,”_ Shiro breathed. Adam froze.

Takashi took advantage of his thunderstruck-ness, twisting his grip and yanking down. Adam gasped as he was wrenched off-balance. He hurtled to the ground beside his love, and barely had time to inhale another breath before he was being rolled to his back. Takashi’s knelt above him, whirring hand coiled near his jugular.

“Do you know why they called me Champion?” He asked, and there was that voice that made Adam shiver again. He really hated Takashi, sometimes. _I hate him **so** much_, Adam amended in his mind when Takashi leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “Because I was undefeated in the arena. I’d like to keep it that way, if you don’t mind. Now,” using his flesh hand to stroke his face tenderly, he leaned back. “Do you yield?” Face burning, Adam huffed.

“You _wish,_ you fuckin _flirt_ ,” he growled, fingers tightening around the staff that had so far been lying helplessly at his side. He swiveled it in his hands, smacking Takashi’s prosthetic away with an intense clang that made them both cringe. Once the immediate danger was removed, Adam wound his right leg around and under Takashi’s left knee and pulled.

Takashi half collapsed on top of him, and this time it was Adam rolling them around. Either he used too much force or Takashi continue the roll because in the second the world righted itself, Adam found himself on one knee across from Takashi, who was in the same stance. The glowing alien arm was once gain fisted beneath Adam’s chin, but he also had Pompeii’s sharp end aimed directly for Shiro’s throat.

A stalemate.

Adam heaved for breath. The crowd was silent, tense. “Alright,” Adam gasped, his voice the only sound for miles. “There’s two ways this could end, methinks. One, we could keep going until you split Pompeii in half or your hip snaps, old man,” he said. Takashi rolled his eyes.

“I am _a year_ older than you, Adam.”

“As I said, until your hip snaps. Or, we could call it a tie and have lunch. Your choice, Captain,”

Takashi pretended to think it over. “Do I still win the bet?” He finally asked. Adam glanced at the letters inscribed into his wrist, where his racing pulse surged beneath. He gulped, heart panging as another voice, so different but still _so beautiful_ , rang in his mind.

_“You still cookin, though?”_

Intellectually, Adam knew he couldn’t control when he heard Omar’s voice. His psyche was still latched onto the sound, as familiar and dear as his own heartbeat. Still, it never made the memories any easier to bear. In fact, in moments like these it was like a sock to the gut. Faltering, he tried to hold his smile for the crowd.

“How about I cook lunch and you convince me later?” He quipped, trying to sound flirtatious but only managing to sound strangled. Takashi’s expression wavered from teasing to concerned for a moment. Then, he schooled it into neutral content easily. 

“Sounds good,” he replied, retracting his arm.

“Ah! I wanted to see you take him down, Captain!” Irva whined as the crowd of refugees and workers screamed and cheered, the younger ones jumping up and down in their excitement. Adam accepted the hand Takashi offered him up. Whereas before he had felt invigorated, alive, now he only felt bereaved. The suddenness of his grief grew a lump in his throat. Why was he _like_ this?

Takashi set a gentle hand on his lower back. “Another day,” he offered the crowd. He bent to snatch Pompeii; and swung her experimentally. “Nice. Take this back for us, will you?” he tossed it to Irva, who somehow caught the inflection in his voice. She nodded once.

“Alright, you louts!” She suddenly roared, making whoever was nearest to her scramble away. “Back to work! We have to make sure everything here is packed up and ready to go before the Garrison comes! Go, now, now, now!” she yelled.

As per usual, the crowd dispersed as if Irva had just released a plague into the air. She hitched Pompeii over one shoulder, cast Adam a worried glance which he returned with a grateful tilt of the head. Irva’s lips pursed, but she, too, wandered away to finish her own duties for the day.

Takashi turned to him, lowered his voice. “Flashback?” Adam nodded and Takashi’s eyes pinched at the corners. “What do you need?” He exhaled a trembling breath and grabbed Takashi’s sleeve in a desperate grip.

_For you never to leave me._

“I’m ok,” he said. “It wasn’t of war. It’s just…” he swallowed past the lump in his throat feeling as if someone were squeezing his heart in an iron fist. He almost doubled over, nausea taking over. “Omar and I… We used to spar each other,” a tear trickled down his face and he wiped it away before Takashi could see. “He was just an engineer, and I was a pilot, y’know? I had the little that you had taught me about martial arts, of course, but… We trained every morning in the beginning. He always wanted me to make him lunch afterwards, the spoiled brat.”

Takashi studied him silently for a moment. Then, squeezing his hand, he asked: “Is there… Is there a memorial for him anywhere?” Adam gestured to a direction in the far left, shaking his head to clear a mind fuzzy with grief.

“Uh… Yeah. Yeah, I buried him over there, beneath the maple tree…. Its where we…” He cleared his throat harshly. “It’s the tree where we said our vows. Irva made a placard for him.”

“Adam,” Takashi said, lying a hand on his chest, over his heart as if to test the strength of it. “Is it…. Tell me if its not, really… But is it alright if I go visit him?” That wasn’t what Adam had been expecting. Quiet comfort and a solid hand, yes, but not… _That._ He eyed Takashi, suddenly nervous. It wasn’t as if he didn’t trust him, just that the idea of having his ex-fiancé and his dead husband in one place, even if one was deceased, made him uneasy.

“Um… Why?” He asked.

Takashi blushed, as usual, but met his gaze steadily. “I… I don’t know, actually. I just feel like its right. Do you mind?” He slipped his glasses from his face, picking at the dust particles along the rim thoughtfully. The word on his wrist was blurry without the glasses, but that could have been tears too. Finally, he released a shaky exhale and nodded.

“No, Kashi, of course not…” Setting his glasses back on his nose, he smiled. “Here, it’s been awhile since I’ve visited him too. We can go together.”

“Are you _sure_ it’s alright with you?”

“Positive. Let’s take another shower, and eat, then we can…”

“You go ahead,” Takashi interrupted. “Take a minute. I know what it’s like to wake up out of those flashbacks, even if they aren’t about war. Besides, you know how much trouble we got into the _last time_ we showered together,” he said

That tickled a smile from him. “You mean this morning?”

“Exactly. You go ahead, Adam. I want to see him.”

He nodded slowly. “Ok then…”

 


	10. Heart Pangs

A half hour later, the shower and piece of dried turkey did him some good. His heart still throbbed as if he had been stabbed, but the dizziness was gone. He found his way to Omar’s grave with ease; and found Takashi on his knees before the placard.

 The long leaves of the maple tree brushed against his head teasingly, almost in a caress. Which was unfair. Why did even _nature_   even adore him, while Adam received racist chickens? As Adam approached, he realized why. Takashi was speaking, quietly, to the placard, hands folded in his lap and head bowed respectfully.

“Hey, listen, we never met, and some part of me hates your guts for marrying the man I love,” Adam smiled. “But… Thank you. Thank you for taking care of him, for making him smile, for having his back. I also want you to know that I’m not trying to replace you. I respect you. I like to think we could have been friends, so…” Takashi looked down, fiddling with his fingers.

“Don’t worry, ok? I’ve got him,” a sigh. “Did I mention that I kind of hate your guts?” Adam blinked away the moisture in his eyes and scooted closer.

“You did mention that, yes,” he agreed hoarsely. The other man swiveled to look up at him, sheepishly.

“Oh, ah, hi Adam,” he stammered.

Adam brushed his fingers over Omar’s grave lovingly. “Kashi… You ok?” He whispered. Takashi nodded.

“As I ever am, I guess. How do _you_ feel?”

“Better.”

“I’m glad. Thank you for letting me have a minute with him.”

Adam ripped his gaze from Omar with some difficulty. “Your monologue was very sweet. I would argue that I don’t need anyone to take care of me, but he used to laugh when I said things like that,” Takashi laughed too.

“For good reason!” He quipped. Adam elbowed him in the ribs. Takashi chuckled, then his eyes softened. “It’s alright to miss him, Adam. I hope you know I’d never try to…”

“I know,” Adam interrupted. Of all things, he was sure of that at least. “Just like he never tried to replace you. You two are very alike, you would have made great friends once you got over hating each other’s guts and your petty jealousy,” he guessed, only teasing a little. Takashi glared.

“If I had come back with an alien boyfriend, wouldn’t you have hated his guts?”

“Are you saying you had an alien boyfriend?”

Takashi didn’t blink. “Maybe.”

 _Oh really?_ Adam squashed his instinctive curiosity. “Then yes,” he drawled, then went back to staring at Omar’s grave so he wouldn’t focus on what Shiro had just admitted. “It’s always so quiet here. Sometimes I can still feel him.”

“He’s still with you.”

A branch of the tree wafted past him, tickling his ear. He closed his eyes. “I know he is…” He choked. “Kashi, was it my fault?”

Suddenly his hands were being squeezed between two delicate ones, so tightly Adam felt the bones creak. “ _No._ Adam, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Then why… It hurts so much. With you I didn’t have a body to bury. It was surreal for a long time, and then it hurt but in a slow, aching way. Now I just feel like there’s a hole in my heart. I live empty.”

“There was this one… Rajkairo. The Galra conquered his planet when he was a kid and enslaved. He was a gladiator; and led a secret rebellion. I guess,” a shrug. “I have a type too. We helped free his planet from the Galra. It was… I was going through a hard time. I just needed to feel _safe_ for a minute and he… He was my _safety_ ,” and there was the jealousy Adam had expected to feel. It surprised him a little. He had never been the jealous or possessive type, but the idea that _he_ hadn’t been there to keep Takashi safe but Rajkairo could set his teeth on edge.

 _“_ Maybe we could have fallen in love. We slept together. We laughed together. We were _something,_ but before we could go any further, he was assassinated by the Galra three feet in front of me. Even though we weren’t a couple, I mourned him. I still miss him, sometimes. It’s like an ache I can’t ease.”

Adam squeezed the hands in his. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

They fell into silence then, trapped in their own thoughts. Eventually, Takashi laid his forehead against Adam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about Omar,” he murmured. Adam ran a hand through his hair, enjoyed the prickle of the living being beside him.

“I’m sorry about Rajkairo. I don’t hate myself or feel so empty when I’m with you,” he said.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever feel completely safe again; but being with you makes me believe maybe one day I can,” Adam kissed his forehead.

“If I have anything to say about it, you will be safe forever,” then, because he was curious enough to burst. “This lover-not-lover friend of yours… Was he good in bed?”

Takashi laughed. “Adam!”

“Like, on a scale from 0 to my level, what was he?”

“ _Now_ who’s jealous?”

“I’m not jealous! I’m competitive.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Adam chuckled. “Takashi, thank you,” he breathed. Takashi raised his head.

“Always, _watashi no ai,”_ he replied.

The Japanese word for _my love_ sent a shudder through him; and made him freeze again. He glared. “You’re a cheater, you know that right?” Takashi smiled innocently. Adam sighed and shifted on his knees. “Well, you won the bet. Still want me to tattoo my forehead?” He wondered. Takashi turned to him with barely disguised horror.

“No! You know I was joking,” he stammered.

“I know,” Adam agreed. He stroked his wrist with a thumb, absently. “Do you know why I got Omar’s name tattooed to my wrist? Because then his name is right above the ulna artery. Where you can feel the pulse of my heart. He _was_ my heart,” Adam’s voice hitched, then faded. A strangled sob built in his chest, but he shoved it away and looked up. Takashi had placed a hand on his back, leaning forward to rest his forehead gently against Adam’s. Two soldiers sharing grief.

“But you, Takashi Shirogane, _you_ are my soul and strength. I think I’ll get your name tattooed right here,” he tapped his left bicep, and Shiro’s eyes widened.

“Adam, please don’t. I was joking! Besides, I don’t need to be on your skin. I know how you feel about me. I know you love me more than every star in every sky,” he said. _Oh, that’s sweet, and oddly true_. Adam leaned back and laughed.

“Nope. It was your idea. It’s happening. And I’ll get your name in Japanese characters, you big baby, so you won’t have to face the mortification of people calling us cute all the time,” he said. Takashi’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

“I wouldn’t be _mortified…”_ Adam snorted. “Ok, maybe I would be. But not because of you. I’m… I can’t tell you what it means that you want to do that. Not that I approve or agree or… Whatever. Then I’m getting your name tattooed to my wrist.”

Adam shrugged. “If you want. Can I dye your hair still?” Takashi heaved an exaggerated sigh.

“I’m going to regret it, but since you’re so insistent…”

“Please? Lunch, then dying your hair and then… _Please?”_

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“Yes! Let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, when I get a spare minute, I can write a one-shot about my perceived head canon that Shiro did fall for a heroic alien man. It can't have lasted long in this universe, obviously, but I refuse to believe he went all those years without stealing some hearts. I mean, its Takashi we're talking about here...


	11. All Aboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Shiro receives a summons, Adam gets good news but still wants to go see Cerivan VI, and the MFE pilots are sick of the Paladins of Voltron and their shit.

They ate the remainder of Hunk’s food in Adam’s apartment. Or, they would have had Takashi not _“accidentally,”_ smeared mashed potatoes over his nose. Adam, not one to take such an attack complacent, had retaliated and eventually, they had a mini food fight in Adam’s kitchen that resulted in both being splattered in mashed potatoes. Takashi had scolded him severely for ruining his suit and wasting good food, but he had been grinning while he did it, and Adam hadn’t stopped giggling the entire time.

“Fine,” Takashi sniffed, pushing himself from the table. “Since you can’t take me seriously, I’m changing my clothes in your room,” he said. Adam swiped a bit more potato from the bowl and flicked it at his face, just to prove how seriously he took that threat.

“Is that supposed to be my punishment?” he mocked as the food landed right between his eyes. “You’re saying I don’t get to watch you strip? As if I haven’t memorized every muscle, scar and patch of your skin by now?” Takashi’s glare was an exact replica of Keith’s sarcastic emo glares from when he was a kid.

“I hate you.”

“Oh, is that what I’m feeling whenever I look at you? Abject hatred? I thought it was… Ah!” Adam cried out, laughing as Takashi shoved his chair over with a foot. Adam toppled to the ground, snorting through his chuckles. Takashi marched into the room, nose in the air. Notably, he didn’t close the door as he started undressing. Adam snickered and lay on the ground, propping his hands in his chin to watch.

 A moment later, Takashi looked up as his arm began to light up in intermittent beeps. He looked down, as if startled, his shirt halfway off. His brows furrowed as he slipped it back on and vanished from sight. Adam heard his voice float into the living room.

“Oh, hey Keith. What’s up? No, I’m fine. Its Hunk’s mashed potatoes. Don’t ask, ok?” Adam chuckled and decided to give papa bear a moment with his cub. He pushed himself up and nabbed the dishes as he walked past the table. He dumped them in the sink and rinsed the dishes, humming softly. He contemplated the tattoo he fully intended to have Elijah sketch into his skin. Should there be flowers around it? Or a jet?

 _Or,_ he thought with a thrill of excitement. _A lion’s mane?_

Takashi’s voice continued, lower. Adam detected a note of alarm; and scowled. He waited a moment, switching his shirt and wiping clean the table before daring to enter. Shiro’s voice had gone silent. He leant forward on his elbows, head hung while his prosthetic rubbed the back of his neck.

The last time Adam had seen him this despondent, Admiral Sanda had told him that she didn’t want him going to Kerberos. The memory made him shiver. This didn’t bode well for them. “Was that the Paladin’s?” Adam asked softly, walking over.

Takashi nodded. “It was Keith. Sam and Pidge found Haggar,” he hadn’t mentioned the name often, but the stories associated with her were so horrifying that Adam’s fists clenched automatically.  

“The witch?” He snarled.

Takashi’s prosthetic twitched. His eyes steeled over. “Yes. She’s hiding out in Russia, along with the last of the Galra fleet. There could be others with her, we don’t know. It doesn’t matter. They have to be found and defeated,” Adam gulped. This was the man who had fought a war. Still, the idea of him in battle made Adam a little queasy.  

“Well,” he sighed. “That’s true, I guess.” Takashi didn’t meet his eyes. He continued to study his prosthetic as if he had never seen it before.

“Adam… I had the Paladins doing another favor for me. Through a lot of backwater channels, they found your mom and aunt,” Adam’s breath left him in a long _whoosh._ He felt as if he had just been socked in the gut. He lowered himself to the bed beside Takashi before he collapsed. The room was spinning. He counted it a side-effect of shock.

And joy.

“W-what? They… They _survived_ the war?” He whispered. Now Shiro looked up, and though there were still shadows in his eyes, he was smiling. He cupped Adam’s cheek tenderly.

“Yes. Your cousins didn’t, I’m sorry. But your mom and aunt were taken to a labor camp. They’re in Chicago right now,” Adam closed his eyes, letting the news absorb into his skin. His mother and aunt, the women who had raised him, were alive. He had reconciled himself to their death’s years ago. His voice cracked when his eyes fluttered open, stinging.

“Kashi…” He whispered, leaning into the touch. “I don’t even know how to…”

“You should go to them,” Takashi interrupted curtly. He pulled his hands away. Adam blinked, trying to connect these two facts. _Well duh,_ he wanted to say, but then processed the use of _you._

His shoulders sagged. “Right, but… What about you?”

“The _Atlas_ is on its way to this position,” Takashi reported, straightening. His eyes held an emptiness that Adam unfortunately recognized, the look of a man prepared to cross any line or boundary in pursuit of what he wanted.

A man who would - and had - died for his beliefs once before. 

_"Tell me, Moltuk, how many ways can a soldier die before he breaks?”_

Adam reached out for Kashi's hand, blindly, and gripped the fingers tightly when they connected. “It will pick me up. Then, myself and the Paladins will head out to face Haggar once and for all. Either she is to be captured and tried; or killed. No alternative,” his eyes blazed. “She needs to pay for what she’s done!”

There was the darkness again. Adam rubbed the cold flesh of his hand with his thumb. “And then?” He asked softly.

Takashi rubbed his temples. “Then… there’s still a universe out there that needs to be rebuilt. New frontiers that need to be explored,” a watery smile. “I’ve gotta go pick up some more rocks,” he whispered.

Adam didn’t smile. His heart was hammering.  “What are you _saying,_ Kashi?”

 “Listen, Adam, I-I know we haven’t really decided what we are yet, or… Or what we’re going to do once I leave,” Takashi rubbed the back of his neck.

“No, we haven’t,” Adam agreed quietly. _This is my fault._

Takashi, as always, read the guilt on his face. His fingers were warm and gentle as he cupped Adam’s chin, forcing them to lock eyes. “And that is _fine,_ Adam,” he said, with a fierce certainty. “Not like we’ve had a million years together, right? Only three days, and… You should know these past few days have been… More than I could ever have dreamed,” Takashi’s jaw gritted in that way that meant he was holding back tears.

“Me too,” Adam whispered, heart breaking. _This is goodbye. Again_.

Takashi nodded. “But after Haggar, after we rebuild Earth, chances are I’ll be needed out there. You waited for me once. I don’t want to put you through that again, so… Tell me to stay, and I will,” Adam gave a start. 

“Wait... What?” He gasped, suspecting he'd heard wrong. _Way_ wrong. 

“If you ask me to stay with you, I will. Like we said, I should have listened to you all those years ago when you first begged me not to leave. I won’t make the same mistake twice, and leaving you? Biggest mistake of my life. So, as ever, my life is in your hands. I trust you,” Adam’s head spun.

“But… But the Atlas…” He stammered. Takashi shrugged.

“Allura and Coran will figure it out.”

“The Paladins…”

“Are basically adults, even if they don’t act like it. Besides, they’ve survived without me before. They’ll do it again.”

“The Garrison…”

“Strapped me to a metal table and almost sent me into a coma. I’ll pass.” Adam opened and closed his mouth several times, breathless with astonishment. Takashi just stared at him patiently, his gray eyes compassionate and understanding.

A sob broke past his lips. He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle it.

“Oh, c’mon Adam,” Takashi pleaded. “Don’t cry…”

Adam shook his head, and promptly bowed forward as sobs wracked his body. He hid his face in his hands because this was stupid. He had cried more in the past three days than he had in three years. It was ridiculous.

“Oh, Adam, no!” Shiro cried, patting his back frantically. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. C’mon, don’t cry,” he continued to whisper pleas against crying and small exclamations of comfort. At last, when Adam’s eyes were scratchy and dry, the tears having been squeezed from him, he looked up.

“Adam?”

“You,” Adam informed him calmly. “Are a complete _asshole._ You always do this, and I hate you,” Takashi just nodded obediently.

“I know.”

“You always pretend to be so tough and capable and then you spring something like _this_ on me. Damn fucker. Just ask for my hand in marriage already,” Takashi’s eyes gleamed.

He took Adam’s hand into his own; and started to lower himself from the bed. “Adam Wright, will you…?”

“No!” Adam cried, slapping his thigh angrily. “No! Stop! I was joking and you’re an asshole!” Takashi laughed, and it was the greatest thing he’d ever heard. “Takashi, Earth needs you, the entire universe _needs_ you. And what’s more… You love the stars. Don’t deny it! You belong up there far more than you belong down here. I won’t hold you back. I’m going with you,” and now it was Takashi’s turn to look confused.

“You… Really?”

Adam kissed him thoroughly. “Yes, idiot. What kind of terrible person would I be if I deprived the entire universe of its best hero? Besides, now that we’re fighting together, imagine all the good we could do! Saving a galaxy? Ha! We can save every galaxy in every reality ever. By Friday, at least.”

Takashi still had furrowed brows, and he looked vaguely as if he wanted to protest more. “Adam… Are you sure? You realize that out there is completely different than here, right? I will be hunted out there. We could never come back. We could come back in ten thousand years when everything has changed, and everyone has died. I _will_ happily stay on Earth with you, promise.”

“I know, Kashi, but I want to see Cerivan VI with you. How about we have a picnic there, on the hill right before a storm rolls over us?”

“I… Really?”

“ _Yes,_ Shiro. I want to go with you. Unless you have a problem with that?” He arched a brow; and was promptly answered when Takashi tackled him to the bed. Adam laughed as his face was smothered with butterfly pecks.

“I am so-” _kiss_ “-irreversibly, completely, unreasonably-” _kiss_ “-in love with you. _Really?”_

“Vrepit Sa, babe.”

“Adam, I… What about your mom and aunt?”

“I’ll go visit them, of course. I assume _The Atlas_ will have a period at the Garrison before taking off for space, correct?”

“I mean…: Shiro shook his head. "Sure. Yeah. Whatever you want.”

“Good. Then I’ll go see them. Maybe they can help at The Garrison. In the meantime, can you connect me with them?”

“Of course!”

“Good. So… Help me pack?”

“Anything,” Takashi breathed. A wide grin split his face. “Adam… You’re amazing, you know that? Absolutely incredible.”

“Yeah, well you started it. Now get off me and go prepare your lion, sentient ship mom whatever,” he shoved his shoulders and Takashi eased them both upright. He tore off his shirt and ran to the bag in the corner, fishing a clean one from the pile. Adam watched amusedly. “I have to get the hair dye because I’m not letting you forget about that deal, and then I have to ask Elijah about tattoo ink…” he contemplated aloud.

“You’re still getting the tattoo…?”

“Dear fool, yes.”

Takashi’s blush spread down his shoulders. “I love you.”

“As you should,” Adam replied. “Wait, you said the Atlas is coming here? As in, MFE fighters, Sam, the Paladins, everyone?” Takashi nodded. Adam’s stomach clenched. “Oh. Do you think the Paladins will like me?” He peeped. Takashi continued to get dressed excitedly, waving away his question as if it had been silly.  

“Keith might try to bite you, Lance will make inappropriate jokes, Pidge will tease us, Allura and Coran will quiz you mercilessly, but Hunk will be cool,” a kiss to the cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah,” Adam echoed weakly. “Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

 

Everyone- all four thousand, two hundred and seven of them - crawled from their underground bunkers and hidden homes to witness the arrival of _The Atlas._ They stood in the center of the compound, necks craned as they scanned the skies, like Adam imagined medieval peoples eyed the clouds above for rain.

He and Takashi stood at the head of the crowd, Elijah and Irva bracketing them on either side. Takashi was fairly bouncing on his heels, dressed in the military attire in which he had arrived. Adam refused to consider how handsome he looked. A little-ways off, the Black Lion sat proud and alert, eyes glowing that same eerie gold. She reminded him of a lioness

“So,” Adam said softly, to break the apprehensive silence. He had never seen the entire base so silent. It was weird. “Where are they now?”

“Two minutes out.”

Takashi, apparently, could tell this from his arm, which was magically connected to _The Atlas_ , and thus through some odd mind-meld, intuition thing he was tracking the ship’s movements.

Adam, as was his new coping mechanism, just hadn’t asked too many questions. All that mattered to him was that Kashi looked excited, so he let it be. He placed a hand on his shoulder with the prosthetic. The skin of his left bicep was still sore, wrapped in gauze to protect the hours-old ink.

“You look really good with your new hairdo,” he broached, conversationally. Takashi reached up, self-consciously, glancing at him.

“You think so?” Adam hmm’ed his appreciation. Granted, _he_ had been the one to dye Takashi’s hair, alongside eager assistants in the form of the younger refugees. It been quite the spectacle, dyeing most of his head black, only a sliver of silver hair running from the back of his head to the bangs, like a pulsing vein.

When the vein reached his bangs, it curled into more silver, and the tips shone a light blue that matched his prosthetic. Adam thought it was beautiful. “Don’t you like it?” He asked. Takashi had seen himself once, his eyes had widened, he’d stammered gratitude to Adam’s helper and not said a word since.

“You know,” Takashi began, slowly. He reached up, and Adam smacked his hand away.

“Don’t touch, Kashi!” Elijah snorted a laugh from next to him.

“I _do_ like it,” Takashi continued. “It caught me off guard, I guess. It reminded me of who I was… _Before,_ you know? I haven’t been that man in a long time, but the silver and blue also remind me… Of who I’ve become. It’s a nice balance,” he supposed. Adam grinned.

“That’s what I thought too,” he agreed.

“You just wanted to put blue in my hair.”

“You aren’t wrong.”

Takashi grunted, eyes drawn to the sky as if on a leash. Adam exhaled a nervous breath. “Do you really think they’ll like me?” he murmured once more.

“Who?”

_“Kashi.”_

Takashi glanced at him, a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. “Adam, why are you so afraid the Paladin’s _won’t_ like you? You weren’t even this nervous when I took you to meet _my grandparents_ for the first time, remember?” he nudged him in the side teasingly.

Adam huffed. “You keep saying they’re your family. Your siblings. They’ve saved you like, how many times now? I want to make a good impression.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Shut up.”

Takashi laughed and wrapped an arm round his shoulders in a brief half-hug. “Adam, _relax._ It’ll be fine, you know. The Paladin’s will love you because I love you,” Takashi promised. Adam crossed his arms doubtfully. “Fine. They’ll love you because _you love_ _me,_ is that better?”

Adam was about to inform him that no, this was not better, but before he could so much as open his mouth to do so, Takashi’s head snapped back up and a wide grin split his face. Adam followed his gaze, and gasped when he saw the globular tip of Atlas pierce the misty clouds above.

It was _huge._

A second later, the air exploded. Adam (and half the base’s population) jumped as their eardrums rung from the intensity of the sound. Adam would recognize it anywhere, even if it had been three years since he’d last seen The Garrison. Their fright was followed swiftly by three sleek jets arcing from the Atlas’s head. The three jets coasted to their position, and Adam inhaled a sharp breath at the ingenious design as they slowly lowered.

“Is that…?” he breathed.

“Why do they look so strange?” Elijah wondered, sounding as wonderstruck as Adam felt.

“Infused with Altean technology. Sam’s design,” Takashi quipped. _I’ve got to look at those schematics_ , Adam decided as Elijah whistled low. An old ache flared in his chest, and he recognized it as childish, innate passion.

He had always loved planes and jets. He had wanted to be a pilot since he was eight years old, only adding _teacher_ to the dream when he’d joined the Garrison. Even after years of only hearing and seeing Galra ships fly past, that wonder at flight hadn’t vanished. Adam was glad.

The jets landed a few feet away from the crowd, close enough to where the hot undercurrents of air swept across the crowd. Several people gasped. Adam just inhaled the coiled scent of engine oil and heated air happily.

Takashi waved as the lead jet’s cockpit… _disintegrated?_ Slid back? Adam couldn’t tell. Immediately, the jets were surrounded by awestruck and excited refugees, who clambered to get close to the alien technology. An older grizzled man stood in the co-pilots seat. He snatched the G-force helmet from his face, exposing white teeth sparkling in a bedazzled grin. His hair was an almost crimson red.

“Mom!” He yelled.

Irva shot from her place at Takashi’s side with a wordless shout of relief. Adam felt tears prick his eyes as they collided in a tight embrace. The pilot stepped around the reunion, smiling, and Adam blinked.

“Griffin?” He demanded, voice high.

“MFE’s!” Takashi greeted as Griffin and two others walked over. A girl with flowy blonde hair and a dark-skinned man with a serious face but sparkling eyes. They approached Shiro and saluted.

“Good to see you, Captain Shirogane,” Griffin said. He glanced at Adam, who was flabbergasted, and pulled him into a swift hug. “Hi, professor Wright.”

“Wait, Griffin was your student?” Takashi asked, amused.

Adam had stiffened when first grabbed, but now he wrapped his favorite student in his arms tightly. “My star pupil! Griffin, it’s so good to see you! You lead the MFE fighters?” Adam cried, slapping Griffin’s back excitedly. He put his hands on the kid’s shoulders, pushing him back so he could stare into kind eyes. “I’m so proud!”

Griffin squeezed his wrists. “I kept you in mind. I wanted to avenge you, make you proud. I’m so glad you’re alive…”

“Likewise, buddy,” Adam agreed, throat tight as he pulled his student in for a second embrace. They shared another grin before Griffin turned to his captain. Takashi was watching them, eyes twinkling.

“Captain, I’m to beg you, on behalf of the entire crew, to _please_ take your Paladin’s back,” Griffin said, drier than powdered tuber. Takashi laughed.

"I take it Matt's, er, "baby-sitting" wasn't up to par?" He suggested. Griffin rolled his eyes. 

"Let's just say... We had to throw all the tape aboard ship _off ship_. Into the vacuum of space. For the safety of everyone on board," Adam swallowed around a throat that suddenly felt tight. How in all the world was he supposed to take that inference?  Takashi grinned, as if he were pleased to hear that his adopted family had been a complete menace in his absence. Knowing him, it probably delighted him to think he was the only authority they recognized. 

“Where are they?" He asked, searching the skies. "I expected them to pilot the lions down and…” As if cued by his statement, the air vibrated with four spontaneous roars. Elijah cursed and clapped a hand to his ears. Adam looked up, inhaled sharply as the four other components of Voltron eased themselves to the ground. They landed in a semi-circle around the Black lion, eyes aglow with their respective colors.

“Show-offs,” Griffin growled.

Takashi smiled and waltzed up to the Red lion just as the mouth opened. Two lanky bodies descended in a cacophony of bickering. “You are _the worst_ back-seat pilot _ever,”_ the one Adam recognized from Takashi’s description as Lance was saying. “As if I don’t know how to land my own quiznacking lion, Keith. We weren’t even being shot at like usual,” the Yellow and Blue lions opened as well, their mouth lowering with the squeaks and growls of pistons and joints.

“Red doesn’t need coddling, Lance, and it’s been five years. Why is it _you’re still_ using that word incorrectly?” was _that_ Keith? Adam hadn’t believed he could be any more surprised today, but staring at the muscled, broad-shouldered young man with his hair tied into a ponytail behind him only solidified his utter stupefaction.

How was he ever going to understand this life?

“ _On contraire,_ mullet. Red needs a gentle touch every once in a while, because she’s so deprived of warmth from _you!”_

Takashi crossed his arms and smirked. “Boys!” He called chidingly.

“Shiro!” Another voice cried, bolting from the green lion in a blur of green armor. Hunk and… another alien? Followed at a more leisurely pace.

“It’s Keith’s fault, Shiro!” Lance said, throwing himself onto Takashi like a fainting damsel. “He never stops _bullying_ me!” The green one collided with Takashi’s mid-riff in a fierce hug. Takashi laughed.

“Hello, Pidge,” he wheezed as the yellow Paladin surrounded them from behind, wrapping large muscular arms around Takashi’s shoulders and squeezing.

“What? I thought this was _bonding,”_ Keith drawled. To Adam’s surprise (because since when did Keith _touch?)_ he fitted himself beneath Takashi’s raised arm, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Hey, Shiro.”

 The alien girl tapped on Lance’s shoulder, and promptly was allowed into the group hug, cradling Takashi’s head in gentle hands. She was nearly his height.

“I’m glad to see you safe, Shiro,” she whispered, and did she have a British accent?

“It’s good to see you guys too,” Takashi replied. Surrounded by a tangle of limbs, Adam saw his shoulders finally uncoil, the tension draining from him briefly. After a moment, he straightened once more and stepped away.

He fondly ruffled Lance’s hair and patted the alien girl on the back. “How do you feel? Everyone’s wounds all healed?” He wondered. Adam wondered how he could even move amidst all the limbs there. Suddenly, another body flung itself from the blue lion and bowled into the group, sending them all flying into the dirt.

“Shiro!” He shouted joyfully.

“Quiznack Coran! You almost killed us all!” Lance cried, poking Coran in the shoulders accusingly. The six of them lay on the ground, all tangled limbs and bulky armor. Takashi moaned painfully. 

“ _These_ are the cadets who saved Earth?” Elijah muttered to Adam, who shrugged.

“We got lucky?” He guessed.

“They’re impressive when they want to be,” Griffin offered, only a small amount of distaste and envy in his voice. Adam glanced down at him curiously.

The saviors of mankind remained on the ground in a semi-coherent heap, speaking all at once.

“Where’s Romelle and Kolivan? Your mom and Axca?” Takashi was wondering.

“Romelle is aboard. Kolivan, Krolia and Axca are already in Russia, making sure The Galra stay in one place,” Pidge replied, matter of fact. Takashi screwed his lips into a thoughtful line.

“Smart. They’re down one scout,” he glanced at Adam, whose stomach roiled at the memory. “I don’t doubt the Galra will have noticed and drawn their own conclusions.”

“ _Wow!_ Who did your hair, Shiro?” Hunk asked curiously. The others poked at his head wonderingly, except for Keith who was trying to detangle himself from between Allura and Coran. Takashi, flat on his back at the bottom of the pile, waved an absent hand in Adam’s direction.

“Adam. Do you think it works?”

“Why didn’t you get purple?” Pidge asked.

“I wasn’t really part of the process, Pidge.”

“Before we begin this conversation,” Griffin interrupted. “We should get back to The Atlas, maybe?” He looked to Adam. “Are you coming, sir?” he asked shyly. Adam squeezed his shoulder.

“I sure am, Griffin,” he assured him.

“Wait, I want to meet Adam!” Lance suddenly cried, staggering to his feet. He pulled Allura upright along with him. Hunk grunted as he followed suit, picked up Pidge by the scruff of her armor and set her on her feet.

Coran and Takashi were quietly laughing as they followed suit. Lance tugged on Takashi’s arm. “Shiro, why haven’t you introduced us? Now he thinks we’re weird!” He wailed. Adam couldn’t deny that he _was_ thinking that.

“He had to find out eventually,” Keith murmured, swiping the dirt from his armor. They met eyes, and one side of his mouth quirked into a grin. “Hi, Adam,” he muttered. Adam smiled back and held out an arm. Keith clapped their forearms together and pulled him into a loose embrace.

“Keith, I know it’s been said, but I am _so_ proud of the person you’ve become. Takashi’s told me all about it,” Adam muttered into his ear. Keith pulled away and shrugged.

“All about us and nothing about himself, I presume?” Adam nodded. Keith rolled his eyes. “Typical. Hey, about what happened after Kerberos….”

“I prefer not to think about that time,” Adam interrupted. “Besides, you have nothing to apologize for. We were both grieving. In our separate ways,” Keith nodded sagely.

“Yeah,” then, darkly, he jabbed a finger into his chest. “Still, if you _ever_ hurt Shiro again, I will take my blade and shove it so far up your…”

“Ok!” Takashi intercepted, lightly stepping between them. He tugged Adam around Keith and fairly shoved him at the others. “Anyway, Adam, these are The Paladins. Lance, Hunk, Princess Allura, Pidge and you’ve already met Coran,” Adam grinned, and accepted various handshakes, salutations, hugs and a heated glare from Allura. “Hunk, I brought you tubers, though I have no clue what you intend to do with them.”

“Ha ha! Thanks, Shiro!”

“You’re welcome. Anyway, these,” he set a hand on the other two MFE’s shoulders. “Are Kinkade and Leifsdottir. Part of my crew,” he turned to Keith. “Are we going up in the fighters or the lions?”

“It is your decision, ultimately. Any of the refugees who want to enter the Atlas can come aboard with me, Pidge and Hunk,” Allura said. “Though, we are headed into battle. We will have to go slower, to wait for Sam and Matt to catch up from the Garrison.”

“They _aren’t_ aboard?” Takashi asked.

“No,” Pidge replied. “My dad believes he can create a set of restraints that will stop Haggar from using her magic. You know, if events line up so that we capture instead of kill her. He and Matt hadn’t finished them when we left.” It was mildly disturbing to hear a sixteen-year-old mention the concept of killing so casually, especially since Pidge reminded him of a lanky sun-bear, but Adam shrugged away the unease. 

Takashi nodded. “So, we’ll hold off our attack until they meet us at our position. We can’t take every refugee, nor is it safe to pile civilians into a battleship. Anyone with special skills can accompany us,” Adam hoped he was included in those with special skills. _You’re not leaving me behind again Kashi,_ he thought, trying to cross his arms before the skin of his tattoo tightened. He hissed.

“Affirmative,” Keith stepped forward. “You and Adam can ride with me. I’m taking Black back up.” The Black Lion purred in the distance.

“She’s all yours,” Takashi replied.

 “Right,” he turned to the others. “Allura, Hunk, Lance, start loading your lions with essential personnel….”

“I can help,” Elijah volunteered from the back. Adam jumped.

“I forgot you were there!”

“We’d appreciate it Elijah,” Takashi said, stepping forward so he and Keith could press close together, voices low as they discussed who could be considered _essential_   _personnel._ Hunk, Allura and Lance stood nearby listening. Adam watched the interchange, eyes darting between Kashi and Keith quickly and were they standing in the exact same way? And using the same tone, even their facial expressions were identical. Elijah and Adam exchanged a look.  

_That’s so cute._

Finally, Takashi gave a nod and set a hand on Griffin's shoulder. “Griffin, I need you and your fighters to circle the area. I have no doubt there are Galra scouts nearby. We don’t need any ambushes today,” Griffin nodded.

“Yes, sir,” he said in unison to Kinkade and Leifsdottir.

“Adam,” his eyes swiveled from where he had been studying the underbelly of Atlas to Keith. “Can you help Pidge download all the info from your servers?” She patted the pad on her belt, and Adam smiled.

“Yes, sir,” he quipped.

“Coran, call into the Garrison and have them send pick-up transports stat. I don’t want any civilian staying on this mountain longer than necessary. It’s time to bring them home,” Adam’s shoulders relaxed a little, as he glanced at Irva. He had no doubt she would want to stay with her son; and being aboard a battleship wasn’t the best place for reunions.

“Yes captain!”

 _Captain. The title suits him._  Adam wasn’t sure he would ever get used to this new life he had agreed to start with the idiot at his side.

But he was excited for it.

 

 


	12. Welcome to The Atlas, brother-in-law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam joins team Voltron on the Atlas, with much trepidation. Lance back-talks Iverson, Hunk and Adam bond over tubers, Pidge is never grounded again, food goo saved Coran's grandfather and Adam divulges a lethal secret.

It took less than an hour to load The Lions. Most of that time, Adam was passed from Paladin to Paladin, helping one or another load their lions. He had the distinct impression he was being assessed during each interaction; and marveled at how diplomatically they concealed it. Noticeably, Allura’s glare had not softened the entire time, though she was as cordial as Takashi had described.

When he finally reached _The Atlas_ , it was in the back of the Red Lion. The fluttering in his stomach grew into a bubble of nauseating nervousness. He and Elijah peeped over Lance’s shoulder as the Paladin continued to chatter at them, switching between topics with the speed of a genius or the short attention span of a four-year-old.

The underbelly of _The Atlas_ flashed like a pearl in the sun, gigantic, mystifying, treasured. “Adam,” Elijah whispered. “This entire ship is bigger than ten of our compounds,” Adam just nodded numbly. He had thought that running the compound was hard, but trying to run _this?_ He grabbed the back of Lance’s chair as a sudden bout of vertigo threatened to upend his stomach. The air shifted around him.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Lance asked, glancing at his face. He leaned over the communications dash, grinning. “Keith, can I call us in this time?” Adam gave a start. Takashi had accompanied Keith to _The Atlas._ He strained to hear his voice in the background.

“I mean… Sure?” Keith responded.

“Lance,” Allura began. “Don’t you dare…”

“Attention _IGF Atlas_!” Lance barreled on, with a wink at them. Adam arched a brow, wondering if he should stop whatever was happening here. “This is The Red Lion of Voltron. The coolest Lion, that’s right! We are coming up on your left with your new crew-members. Permission to come aboard?”

 _I mean, a little unorthodox, but nothing too bad…_ “Lance,” a feminine voice replied, with tangible exasperation. “We can see you. The lions could literally burst through the hull. Why are you asking to board?” Followed by Iverson’s equally exasperated demand.

“Cadet!” He nearly shouted. Lance and Adam jumped to attention out of habit. “Why did you broadcast your message to the entire ship!?” Ah. Now Adam saw the problem. Still, he stifled a smile behind one hand. Elijah tangibly snorted.

Lance’s eyes sparkled. “I needed everyone to know who the coolest lion was,” he answered with a shrug. “And I’m not a Cadet. I’m a Paladin,” he corrected. Adam detected a cool balance between polite correction and bitter reminder.

“You’re a pain in my…”

“Alright, commander, we’re coming aboard. Please wait to chew out Lance until then,” Keith interrupted. The line went dead, Iverson’s lethal growl ringing in their ears even after he had hung up.

Silence. Then, Hunk’s appreciative snicker. “Nice one, Lance.”

“I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell Iverson we aren’t cadets anymore for, like, weeks now,” Pidge agreed.

“Seriously. We only saved the universe,” Keith drawled.

“Welcome back, Shiro,” Allura sighed, obviously torn between amusement and scolding.

Shiro snorted. “Matt told me you’d all been causing trouble.”

“We’ve been angels!”

“Sure you have been.” Adam was so busy listening to the back-and-forth that he jumped when their world came to a sudden stop with a firm jolt. Elijah whistled and slapped his shoulder before taking off down the lowered ramp. Lance twisted around in his seat, smiling. Adam felt his cheeks heat. Had his nervousness been so noticeable that Lance had started an entire argument with Iverson to calm him down?

_“They’re some of the bravest, kindest people I know.”_

Trapped between gratitude and embarrassment, he just returned Lance’s smile. “Thanks,” he murmured.

Lance shrugged and stood, stretching. “No clue what you’re talking about. Ready to see _The Atlas_?” He asked. Adam was more ready to see Kashi. It had only been about ten minutes since they’d seen each other, but after days of having Takashi near him constantly, the separation felt like years again. Instead of all that, he nodded and allowed Lance to lead him back into the Hangar, where dozens of people of different species and genders flitted around with cables, machines and small carts. The other lions were nearby, eyes dim. The MFE jets soared past a moment later, their tires squealing as they intermittently touched the ground to reduce speed. It was _the coolest_ thing Adam had ever seen.

“We asked Sam to turn the gravity back on, so as not to freak anyone out,” Lance explained from behind him.

Adam stiffened. “You usually have it off?” He demanded.

Lance shrugged. “Not entirely. We turn it down, sometimes. So if one day you wake up and you’re floating, that’s normal.” Well, that was good to know. Also terrifying. Mostly, though, it was the second coolest thing he had heard about all day.

“Thanks for the heads-up.” He turned in a slow circle, drinking in the sight of the first alien-human collaboration in history.

“Adam!” He stopped at Takashi’s call, turning in time to see him coming forward with the other Paladin’s in tow. Adam reached out a hand; and breathed a sigh at the reassuring pressure of Takashi’s grip. “I see you brought him back in one piece, Lance.”

“You doubted?” Lance snorted.

Takashi chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Not at all.”

“They’ll want you on the Bridge, Shiro. You’re still our best bet at communication with The Atlas,” Coran informed them.

Takashi nodded, cringing. “I’d hoped to give you a tour, but I guess duty calls,” he told Adam, who smiled. It was cute that he seemed to believe Adam was going anywhere without him.

“Lead on, Captain.”

* * *

 

The bridge was very much like the Hangar, but with a bit more organization.

He gawked at the sleek pearly walls, interrupted by thin veins of glowing blue. The intentional bumps of nails and wires, the way the chairs swiveled without sound or hesitation. This was certainly a better place than his mountain camp. _This_ was a command center.

Iverson turned and smiled, though one eye glared at Lance. There was a woman at the helm that he recognized, one of the younger lieutenants, maybe? She also waved as the bridge lapsed into silence. All eyes swiveled to the doorway when Takashi stepped through. The Paladins dispersed, Lance and Allura going to the woman. Keith stood behind Coran, eyes on the burned mountains below. He crossed his arms. Pidge and Hunk jumped over the railing to join the technicians.

Iverson snapped to his feet, right hand raised in a stiff salute. “Captain on deck!” He announced gruffly.

The technicians copied his movement quickly. “They never do that for me,” Coran grumbled as he swept past. Adam watched, curiously, as he switched places with the woman at the head.

“At ease everyone,” Takashi laughed. Adam walked around the Captain’s deck, never taking his hands off the beautiful metal of Atlas’s interior.

Iverson smiled when he approached him. Adam executed a sloppy salute. “Sir!”

Iverson stood. “Wright,” he locked his neck between his elbow in an awkward hug. “Welcome back and welcome to _The Atlas._ ” Adam gently extracted himself. He certainly didn’t recall this more laid-back version of Iverson. It was kind of nice, but mostly just uncomfortable.

“Thanks…” Then, countenance darkening, “so about strapping Takashi to a table…” Iverson rolled his eyes.

“You too, huh? Coran still won’t let me live it down,” he grumbled.

“Coran and I are starting a coalition,” Adam agreed. Coran whooped beside him.

“Adam!” Takashi interrupted. Adam looked up, and seeing Takashi standing in the captain’s deck, brow arched, huffed. Takashi held out a hand. “Come up here and do the honors with me,” he invited. Adam gave Iverson another long glare, exchanged a nod with Coran, but obeyed. He ascended the steps. Below, the scarred remains of Mt. Takao stood like a defeated soldier.

Takashi ran a hand across the controls below him. “Hey Atlas,” he murmured, eyes far away.

Adam smiled. “Should I give you two a minute alone?” He quipped, right before there was a sudden jolt in his gut. The floor seemed to vanish from beneath him and then he felt himself falling, collapsing in on himself, until he was and wasn’t in his own body. A disjointed voice, almost child-like, peeped in the back of his head.

_New man._

He realized he had wobbled into Takashi when a firm hand on his elbow snapped him back into his body. The presence remained in the back of his mind, a child tugging on its parent’s sleeve. He looked up, mouth agape, to see Takashi and Allura studying him curiously. “Did you feel that?” Shiro whispered.

Adam gave a sharp nod, dizzily. “Yeah, was it…?”

Takashi grinned. “Atlas says hello,” he answered. He turned back to his crew, voice dropping into command. “Veronica, Iverson, are we ready for take-off?”

“Affirmative sir!”

“All weapons systems responsive and functional!”

“Coran?” Coran waved a thumbs-up. “On your command, Captain!”

Takashi glanced at him. “Ready to go?” Adam glanced down at the mountains which had been his home for years, which held the body of his fallen beloved, and nodded. _Goodbye Omar._ “Alright, three, two…Launch!”

“Should I ask why there are so many people aboard now? I thought we were only picking up Shiro?” Another alien demanded as she stormed inside, Elijah on her heels. Takashi stepped down, extending a hand to help Adam. His knees felt unsteady, his gait loping a bit with giddiness. He was actually here.

“Change of plans, Romelle,” Keith replied, without turning.

“This place is incredible! How big is the crew?” Elijah burst out.

“Not as many as you would believe. I think our crew is still pretty small. We have maybe five hundred?” Shiro asked, eyes swiveling to Keith. The red one shrugged. “Anyway, I try not to think about it too often.” Romelle stretched her arms above her head, yawning.

“When will we reach Russia? I want a shot at that witch,” she asked. Takashi gestured below, to Pidge. She popped her head over the deck to answer.

“We’re going pretty slow to wait for my dad and Matt to catch up, so… Maybe a day and a half? If we were going full speed, we’d be there in fifteen minutes,” she sounded as proud as if she had created Atlas herself.

Takashi nodded. “You want that tour now?” He asked him. In truth, Adam wanted to explore more of the relationship he apparently now shared with the semi-sentient ship, but before he could say that, Allura interrupted.

“A tour will have to wait,” she said, not unkindly. “I think we all need a debrief. And a plan for when we catch up to Haggar. I don’t want to go in blind,” Lance threw an arm over her shoulders.

“Relax, Allura, let’s have food first!” Takashi startled.

“Have none of you eaten today?” He demanded, crossing his arms.

Pidge shrugged. “Matt told us to swallow spit until we weren’t hungry anymore.”

A sigh. “Of course he did. Hunk, you want to show us how you plan to cook those tubers?” Hunk’s hands flew to his heart exaggeratedly.

“Shiro, how could you even ask me something like that?” He gasped. Pidge snickered as Takashi raised his hands pacifically. Hunk looked up at Adam shyly. “Hey Adam, can you cook?” Adam blinked, taken aback by the question.

“Um… Yes?” Hunk released a breath of relief. “Oh good. Because Shiro can’t. I was hoping one of you would know. Here, I’ll show you around the kitchen,” he invited. Adam had known he would like Hunk. Following the eager crowd now shuffling from the bridge towards the kitchens, he turned to smirk gloatingly at Takashi, to which his lover just rolled his eyes.

“It isn’t that I can’t cook,” he lied. “It’s only that I can’t make masterpieces like you, a skill none of us have.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Keith teased. Pidge snorted.

“You once set the food goo on fire, Shiro,” she pointed out.

Adam threw his hands up exasperatedly. “Can someone please explain what food goo is to me? I’m still confused,” he begged.

“Essentially…” Romelle began knowingly, only to be interrupted by Lance.

“It’s the garbage we’ve been eating for five years,” he finished dryly.

At once, Keith smacked him behind the head, Takashi pinched the bridge of his nose, Pidge swiftly kicked his ankle and Hunk groaned aloud. Allura gasped, though her mouth had quirked into a sympathetic grin. “Lance!” She scolded.

Coran jolted as if he had been shocked. “How dare you!” he cried, the tips of his ears twitching. Adam watched, fascinated. “My grandfather once survived two years in the salt mines on Altea by devouring that goo!” He yelled. _Note to self, don’t insult the food goo,_ Adam thought.

Lance was unperturbed. “Your grandfather was crazy, Coran,” he placed an elbow on Adam’s shoulder. “Listen, Adam, if you really want to know the best, most fun parts of the ship, you’ll let me give the tour,” he flashed a grin that could have charmed the stoniest souls.

Adam just cocked a brow. “Oh?”

“Yes. I’ve already scoped the place out.” Lance yelped as he was dragged into a headlock at Takashi’s side.

“Yeah? And when did you do this? You’ve been confined to the bed for four days right Lance?” He asked, with a distinctive edge to his voice. Lance wiggled himself free of the hold, patting down his wayward curls with all the indignant irritation of a little brother.

“Right, space dad. Is Pidge grounded now?”

“What?! Shiro, Lance is only angry because I always win at Pac-Man!”

“You mean you always _cheat_ at Pac-Man,” Takashi corrected dryly. Pidge opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand pacifically. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter because Pidge is never grounded,” that was the worst thing to say apparently, because all at once there was shouting.

“Hey! Why’s Pidge special?”

“I can see who the favorite is _here!_ ”

“What?! Why not?”

“She found Adam for me.”

Pidge crossed her arms smugly. “Hell yeah I did.” Adam, who had only been half-listening to the bickering, turned suddenly. “Oh, so you’re the one?” he inquired. Pidge looked up at him, splotches of red decorating her cheeks as she fidgeted with her glasses.

“Oh. Ah, I guess so?” He laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Then I owe you everything for bringing my family back to me. In fact, I should thank all of you for protecting the love of my life.” Keith rolled his eyes and pretended to gag. Romelle promptly swooned into Coran’s arms while he arched his brows at Shiro flirtatiously. Takashi looked as if he wanted to jump ship now.

Hunk clasped his hands together, eyes wide. “Ahhh, stop! You guys are too cute!” He cried, sounding choked.

Pidge and Lance exchanged a grin of mischief. “Shiro has a boyfriend! Shiro has a boyfriend!” They chanted.

“I will lock you both in the brig.”

“Jokes on you, we don’t even _have_ a brig,” finally, they arrived in what Adam equated with a living room/ dining room hybrid. The large room was split into two halves, the stark white of the walls and floors muted by dimmed golden light. Ahead of them was a long, curving couch, the color of wet sand. The edges and back glowed with oscillating blue light. Somehow Adam knew the light lashed in pulse with The Atlas’s engine systems, like a mechanical heartbeat.

On either side were two arm-chairs facing a large screen. Adam hadn’t seen a television so wide since he’d left their apartment before Kerberos, and the sight of it startled him a bit. He didn’t recall them being… Quite like this. So flat. It was strange. To the left, a large kitchen, replete with four refrigerators, and a hovering bar sat. Adam gasped. He hadn’t seen a room this large in years. He suddenly felt… Behind. Uncivilized.

The Paladins continued as if nothing were out of the ordinary and why wouldn’t they? They had been to advanced planets with technology far greater than this. Meanwhile, Adam had been living in the woods.

“Besides, Shiro saved us all the time. How could we do any different?” Lance continued as he flung himself over the edge of the couch.

Keith nodded seriously. “We weren’t coming home without him. No matter what,” he agreed.

Takashi rolled his eyes, but he was staring at the Paladins with a twinkle in his eyes. “Seriously, all of you stop. I’m right here.” Adam stood in the doorway as the doors slid closed behind him, feeling lost.

Thankfully, Hunk noticed his hesitance and gently steered him into the kitchen. “Oh no, you aren’t allowed in here! You all know the rules!” Hunk bit out, as Allura, Takashi and Pidge began to follow them. He waved them away. “Adam, you’re with me. The rest of you get out.”

“Pushy, pushy!” Pidge stuck her tongue out; but vacated the premises quickly. “C’mon. Shiro, debrief us all again,” making their way to the den, the others crowded around Takashi as he began a summary of his interrogation. Adam was glad he didn’t have to hear about it a second time.

He turned back to the kitchen, where someone had delivered the bag of tubers to a far corner. Hunk rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Alright, let’s do this man!” They spent half an hour there, much to Adam’s relief. He may not have been as well-versed in battle strategies or technology as the others, but he had experimented hundreds of ways to cook these tubers. Between his experience and Hunk’s never-ending enthusiasm, they settled on tuber casserole with a raspberry quiche.

From the den, the serious conversation seemed to have devolved into random bursts of laughter and more bickering. “I’m really glad you’re here,” Hunk admitted as they stood outside the oven, Hunk slipping the dish of grayish-orange crushed tuber into the waiting heat. “Shiro was in a pretty dark place when he found out about his grandparents… We were a little worried. He’s been through so much, y’know? I haven’t seen him look this relaxed in a long time.” Adam swiped a hand across his forehead, leaning against the counter as the oven closed. He and Hunk high-fived, victorious.

“Yeah, well, a lot of it is because of you and the others,” he said, glancing to their right. He could hear Pidge again, her voice high and excited as she described… Something to do with the Paladins and tape? _I don’t want to know._

He grinned. “Literally, Hunk, he talks about you guys all the time. He thinks the world of each of you,” Hunk ducked his head, smiling.

“Yeah… Shiro’s super cool that way. At first, he was like, this really intimidating dude. Not only was he Lance’s biggest hero and a legend in Pidge’s book, but Keith fairly worshipped him, and I was terrified of him. Then we started to know each other and well, now he’s the official team big brother. I don’t know what we would have done without Shiro.”

“He is pretty amazing,” Adam agreed. Hunk sighed as he flicked off his oven mitts.

“Alright, now all we have to do is wait. By the way, seriously, you two? Adorable together.” Adam was glad someone could admit emotions without blushing. He chuckled softly. “I say that all the time too,” he chirped, following Hunk from the kitchen and back toward the den.

Adam set his elbows on the back of the couch behind Takashi. Who was apparently reestablishing his dominance as team space dad. Takashi looked up when he felt Adam hovering, eyes twinkling. “Hey,” he quipped. Adam only arched a brow at him, unsure if he would be heard over Lance’s desperate laughter. His upper body was pulled into Takashi’s lap, squirming wildly while Takashi feathered fingers around his stomach and sides.

Keith was observing the exchange with a devilish grin. “Shiro, quit it, please!” Lance choked out.

“Will you stop teasing me about Adam?”

“Yes, yes! I’m sorry, I’ll stop!”

“Ow! Lance, stop kicking me!” Allura hissed when a stray foot caught her in the ribs further down the couch. Yet the mischievous smile she was sporting belied the irritation in her voice.

“Allura, help! Adam, Adam _help me!”_

“Takashi!” He scolded insincerely. “That’ll teach you,” Takashi growled, shoving Lance to the floor. The lankier kid flopped to the ground like a slain fish, holding his sides and curling into a tight ball so he could giggle breathlessly.

“No fair!” He whined.

“Loser,” Pidge scoffed from the furthest end of the couch. She was hanging upside down, her knees set on the couch back and head hanging over the edge while she examined a pad. “You should have teased him from across the couch like the rest of us.”

Lance glared. “Thanks, Pidgeon.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“What? Pidgeon? Why not, Pidgeon?”

“Shiro! Lance keeps calling me names!”

“Keith, I thought you were in charge now. Mind handling your teammates?” Keith pursed his lips, unimpressed with the challenge.

He did, however, stop flipping through the television channels to regard Pidge and Lance. “Both of you act your own damn ages or so help me, I will come over there and carve out your tongues,” he said, without a hint of humor.

“Very leader-like, Keith, thank you,” Takashi said dryly. Adam laughed. He put a hand on Takashi’s shoulder, squeezing the solid muscle thoughtfully. Then, because he enjoyed embarrassing his lover, he leaned over to address Lance.

“You do know that Takashi is like, one of the top five most ticklish people on Earth, right?” He asked innocently. Shiro, beneath his fingers, stiffened.

The response was instantaneous. “What?!” Hunk, Coran, Romelle, Lance, Pidge and Keith cried in unison. Allura just eyed Takashi as if she were trying to distinguish the truth of Adam’s claim through sight alone. He wondered if she could read minds. He doubted she needed too, if so. Takashi blushed a vibrant shade of red, reaching up to try and dislodge Adam’s hands from his shoulders.

“Adam…”

“Yeah. Watch,” he tried to flutter his fingers beneath Takashi’s chin, but he ducked away before he could.

“Adam, would you shut up!?” He hissed.

“You used to torture me when I was a kid!” Keith accused, as Pidge quickly pulled herself upright. Lance was moving too, eyes wide as he carefully pushed himself onto his hands and knees.

“Yeah, but that’s my designated job as the eldest,” Takashi murmured.

Adam feigned shock. “How have you hidden this information for five years? You giggle if I breathe on you weird,” he gasped with a wink at Hunk, whose expression resembled a child who had just been gifted their first and last pony for Christmas. _I love spreading joy,_ Adam reflected. Takashi, by this time, had noticed the growing threat of his situation.

He narrowed his eyes at Keith and Allura, who had been inconspicuously inching their way over. “I do not! Don’t listen to him! I am not ticklish,” he gritted from between clenched teeth. He let out a squeak when Lance grabbed his leg, yanking it away as if he had stepped on needles.

“I don’t know, Shiro. You’re blushing pretty hard…” Lance snickered.

“I always do that when you guys talk about me. It means nothing.”

“Keith?” Hunk asked. “Wanna lead the charge on this one buddy?”

“With pleasure,” Keith’s mouth curled in a devious snarl, grin mix, exposing a row of sharp fangs and… Why did he have fangs? Adam was engrossed in this new fact that he almost missed Keith’s command. “Everyone converge on Shiro’s position, hold him down, and attack!” He yelled, lunging for his brother.

“Stop!” Takashi yelped, diving over the side of the couch in one fluid movement. He tried to scramble away; but was quickly tackled around the legs by Lance. Pidge straddled his back a second later, latching onto his shirt like some deranged koala. Takashi collapsed, his prosthetic coming around to try and dislodge her. The hand was likewise snatched in Allura’s strong grip and held down, the fingers scrabbling on the ground as Takashi tried to ward off Keith, who had landed near his head to secure his other limbs. Hunk just sat on his ankles.

“N-no! Don’t! Adddaaammm!"

Coran and Romelle appeared on either side of him, arms crossed. “Would you mind if I gave you the grand tour, Adam? While the others are, er, otherwise occupied?” Coran asked over the sound of Takashi’s frantic and burgeoning laughter.

“Ooh, I know the best spots for when you need a quiet moment!” Romelle offered enthusiastically.

Adam grinned at them. Half of him wanted to watch the sibling bonding session happening on the floor, but he also knew that Takashi was likely to attack him the moment he was free. Better to check on Elijah. “I’d be delighted, Coran,” he replied. “You kids have fun now!”

“No! Adam, don’t l-leave me!” Takashi begged.

“Thanks Adam!” Pidge called.

“Best brother-in-law ever!” Lance added, and as Adam began listening to his passionate tour guides, his stomach fluttered. He had been, admittedly, terrified to meet the Paladins. Now, he could hardly wait to see how life with them would unfold.

Also, brother-in-law. He liked the ring of that. 


	13. The First Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge-the-favored examines Shiro's arm, guests are invited to the dinner table, Romelle finds a job and many things are discussed. Adam and Shiro's inevitable wedding is only one of them.

“Seriously, Hunk, you cannot have two yellows and two greens right now.”

“It’s Uno, buddy. Same number. Still works.”

Lance growled an insult beneath his breath that Shiro, in his exposed state, didn’t dare to correct. “Fine. Fine. You wanna play it like that? Then it’s on.”

“Lance, you’ve said that at least three times now,” Pidge pointed out from where she was situated on top of Shiro’s prosthetic hand, the weight of her body warm and somehow comforting. Allura lay on her stomach next to her, both sets of eyes riveted to the delicate machinery inside his metal arm. “Just admit it, you suck at Uno.”

“It’s a very intricate game,” Allura observed, her chin set on Pidge’s right shoulder as she watched her fiddle with the mechanics. She was lying on her stomach, pressed like a blanket against his side. Every once in a while, she would pat his cheek, as if verifying that he was still there.

“Shiro, are you paying attention?” Keith demanded, slapping at his chest with the back of his hand. Shiro swiveled his neck awkwardly so he could squint down at him.

“You’re the one who keeps falling asleep,” he accused.

“Do not,” Keith argued with a yawn. He, too, was a solid, warm weight against Shiro’s left side. Keith’s head rested in the junction between his arm and body. He held a pad up, showing Shiro the edits Krolia had suggested to their battle strategy. Shiro had a loose arm wrapped around his neck, his fingers scrolling through the suggestions idly. He respected Krolia immensely; and gained never-ending amusement from how similar she was to Keith, but that didn’t mean he cared much for her battle strategies.

He swiped Keith’s bangs away from his forehead. “It’s ok, Keith. Just rest. You’ll need your strength for when we take Haggar,” he said, with a small chuckle that set his sides on fire. Again. He hissed and shifted minutely. Pidge nudged his shoulder.

“Don’t move!” She hissed, face illuminated by the small crystal in his arm. “I think I know how my dad did this…”

“Haven’t you looked through the schematics, like, ten thousand times? Before we put it on Shiro and after?” Keith drawled, letting his head fall so that he could face her, his long hair tangling beneath Shiro’s nose. He tried to snuffle back the sneeze that lodged in his chest.

“Doesn’t mean I still don’t think it’s cool and mysterious in person,” Pidge replied.

“It is quite ingenious,” Allura echoed. She sighed, stirring a strand of Pidge’s hair, and glanced at Shiro. “Shiro, are you _sure_ you want to go into battle with us? You haven’t had much time to spar with your new arm, and you’d been trapped inside the lion for months before that…” He arched a brow at her challengingly, but it was Lance who spoke up.

“Let it go, Allura, trying to convince Shiro to stay behind would be like trying to get Coran to clean his mustache. Probably necessary, but utterly futile,” he informed her, from where he and Hunk still held him prisoner. They both had settled over his ankles as they played Uno. Theoretically, Shiro could kick them off, but that would entail aiming for uncomfortable places. He wasn’t so desperate yet.

Allura narrowed her eyes at Shiro, as if he had been the one to argue against her point. He smiled. When he had woken up in his new body, Allura had rivaled Keith in her protectiveness of him. He knew she had taken his _death_ as a personal failure, and the fact that he had been trapped inside Black had been an especially jolting revelation.

 “I’ll be _fine,_ Allura,” he promised. “Besides, I have to do this, if not for myself, then for every other slave and gladiator Haggar forced into the arena,” an old, familiar ache of vengeance reared alive in his gut. Sometimes, he could delude himself into believing he craved justice instead of vengeance. But it was a lie.

He hated himself for it.

Allura nodded, smooshed her cheek against the tip of his metallic shoulder. “I worry for you,” she admitted quietly.

“You can get in line behind the rest of us,” Keith told her. “Or really me. I’ve been worrying about him since I was like, twelve. Never gets old. Hey,” he tapped Shiro’s chest again. “Do you think we should position the MFE’s above or around the projected bunker?” He pointed to the five golden dots on the screen. Shiro hmm’ed as he contemplated the screen.

“Keith…” Allura began.

“Allura, he’s coming. If only because the last time we left him aboard _Atlas_ while we went out to fight, he snuck onto the Galra lead cruiser, disabled crystals and tried to fight Sendak on top of a ship falling out of orbit. It’s safer just to have him with us.”

“Who snuck onto a Galra cruiser?” A new voice interjected from above. Shiro tipped his head back to see muddied boots approaching them from the doorway. Adam’s eyes swiveled, looking for them. When his eyes alighted on Shiro, they softened.

 _Traitor,_ Shiro thought, glaring.

“Ah, is that how we quiet you all, then? We give you a Shiro-sized plaything?” Coran quipped, nudging Hunk’s leg with a toe. Shiro groaned.

“Coran, please never word it like that ever again,” he pleaded.

“You guys look like a puppy litter, cuddled together like that,” Adam cooed, kneeling beside his head. He kissed Shiro’s forehead. “Still alive, then?”  

“No thanks to you,” Shiro said, cringing as the reminder of his aching ribs and burning sides resonated through his head. He had been tickled until he was sure he would pass out from breathlessness and humiliation.

He hated Adam, really.

“Adam, what happened to your arm?” Keith demanded, pointing at the bandage tied around Adam’s bicep. He glanced down and smiled.

“It’s a tattoo,” he answered.

“What! Totally awesome! A tattoo of what?” Lance cried, perking up. Shiro wondered if he would have to wrangle an excited Lance away from a sketchy tattoo artist in the near future.

“Takashi’s name. It’s so elaborate we ran out of ink, but he’s going to get my name tattooed into his wrist,” Adam bragged. Shiro’s face burned, and he stared at the ceiling. The giddiness spreading in his chest embarrassed him, even. _I can hardly believe Adam is here, with the others, on my ship,_ he thought, trying fruitlessly to hide how pleased these facts made him.

As usual, no one cared about his mortification. “That is so _sweet_!” Hunk squealed.

“Hunk, where’s Shay?” Shiro asked, hoping to distract them from his own romance. He heard Adam chuckle above him; and cursed his inability to move. Hunk ducked his head shyly. Pidge snickered.

“Hunk’s _girlfriend_ is back at the Garrison,” she informed him. “They went out on a date,” she made kissy noises at Hunk, who glared at her savagely. Shiro, on the other hand, was delighted. Shay was not only strong-willed and courageous; but had the kindness and warmth to match Hunk’s huge heart.

“What?! Really?” He cried.

Hunk covered his face with his hands. “Ok, it was _not_ a date,” he moaned. “We literally walked to the plane yard, and I showed her the innards of Earth planes. Not a date. Back me up here Lance,” he nudged his best friend, who so far hadn’t looked up from the game. His lips were pursed into an expression of ultimate focus.

“Forfeit Uno and I will,” he replied, dead-pan.

“Lance! I thought we were friends!”

“I thought you needed the same color to win the game, but you know what Hunk? Sometimes the things you think you know are _lies.”_

“Lance, I would literally _die_ for you,” Hunk pointed out, sounding hurt.

Lance gave his best friend a dazzling smile. “Ahh, I would die for you too _hermano,”_ he reached over to pat Hunk’s cheek. “Now forfeit the game.”

“You know what?” Hunk smacked down his cards. “We’ll finish this after dinner. Adam, are the tubers ready?”

“I put them on a timer, so they should be…” A sharp ding echoed from the kitchen. Adam grinned. “Done now.”

“Coran, did you get a chance to invite Iverson and the others to dinner?” Shiro asked. Coran gave a swift nod.

“I did Shiro. Iverson declined, but Veronica, Griffin and Kinkade agreed. They should be here soon. Who’s going to set the table?”

“It’s Keith and Allura’s turn,” Lance pointed out as Hunk jumped to his feet to grab the dish, Adam on his heels. Keith groaned but sat up. Allura did the same, both trudging silently to complete the chore. Shiro smiled and accepted Pidge’s hand up.

He stretched his back languidly, watching as Lance and Pidge helped set the table. Romelle fluttered about the room as if she were a moth who couldn’t decide which light to fasten too first. One moment she leaned over Allura’s shoulder, watching them set the table with furrowed brows, the next she stood beside Hunk, sniffing the food curiously. Shiro chuckled and caught her arm when she passed him.

“Looking for a job?” he wondered.

“No!” Romelle said, too quickly to be true. When he only waited patiently, she sighed. “Maybe. I am new to this planet, you know. I could do things when they were all healing, but now,” a helpless shrug. Shiro knew how she felt. When he had come from the cosmic field, he had been forced to reintegrate himself into the Paladin’s routine, rediscovering his role, not as leader per se. Yet still as support.

It hadn’t been easy. He patted Romelle on the back. “Why don’t you greet our guests?” He suggested, tipping his head to the door, which slid open to reveal Veronica, Griffin and Kinkade.

“Did you know they were there?”

“I may have had an idea,” he winked. “Go on. Try and seat them next to someone they haven’t spoken too before. Like, Veronica next to Pidge or Kinkade next to Coran. We’re all crewmates after all. Time to get to know each other.” Romelle grinned. Her long hair flapped as she nodded and skipped away to do as he had asked.

He crossed his arms and stood back to watch. Coran was speaking to Adam animatedly as he set a steaming dish in the middle of the table. “We’re going to need more chairs!” Adam called, without looking up. Shiro had no doubt he’d known all along that he was just standing there. “Mind lending a hand, Captain?”

“Don’t ever fall in love,” he cautioned Pidge as she walked past. “One minute you’re happy, the next they tell everyone all your secrets and start giving you commands,” Pidge rolled her eyes.

“I’m just glad _someone_ knows how to handle your dad-ness,” she informed him.

“Please, come sit, come sit….” Romelle was saying when Griffin walked in, gently shoving him into a seat beside Keith. The two boys glanced at each other, and Shiro saw the familiar flash of rivalry. He sighed.

“I can’t just demand that Atlas _materialize_ chairs, you know,” he told Adam.

“Then what good are you?” Adam drawled. “I think you can. Just try.”

“Fine, fine,” he closed his eyes and tapped at the piece of him that was linked to the ship. _Atlas?_

 _I’m here._ And still so much like a child, standing loose fingered and wide eyed at his feet. Shiro couldn’t look down at a ship forty times his size, but he had the distinct impression that Atlas was staring up at him. It was an odd sensation. _Er… Chairs?_ He projected an image, just in case. He received a brief flare of bitterness.

_I know what chairs are._

_Sorry, sorry._

“Ha ha!” His eyes snapped open at Lance’s sharp crack of laughter. Three more chairs had risen from the ground; and settled around the table. Shiro released a slow breath. This would take some getting used too. Adam settled into a seat, grinning.

“Not bad,” he said when Shiro plopped into the vacant chair next to him.

“This food looks good,” he offered in response. “I thought you’d be tired of tubers by now.”

“Hunk can make anything exciting,” Adam replied, exchanging a smile with said person. Hunk, sitting across from them between Allura and Keith, returned the gesture.

“Hey, it was a team effort,” he looked around at the table. The Paladins eyed the food ravenously; but hesitated as they would at any social function. Different planets had required various customs before eating meals. They were trained to be respectful of these differences. Shiro laughed and waved at the meal.

“Go ahead! Eat!” He invited as Adam watched the others like a hawk, evidently noticing some of the reticence and sharing it.  At once, platters were being passed around, scoops taken of casserole and vegetables and salads.

“Did you guys eat like this in space?” Veronica wondered in the intervening silence, shoveling some salad unto her plate.

“At the table? When we could,” Pidge said, in the midst of a brief spoon fight with Hunk. “Usually we were so tired or busy we ate separately or in pairs. Like, Hunk and I would go to the lab and work on a project.”

“Besides, we spent enough time together as it was,” Keith added dryly.

“Sometimes, we were invited to dine with royalty on some of the planets we rescued. Or they even gave us _parades_. Sometimes big, sometimes small. Then we’d get dinner and a show. Hey, you guys remember the Galerais? They tried to sacrifice twenty people in our honor,” Lance recalled with a shudder.

Veronica inhaled a sharp breath. Kinkade glanced between them all as if suspecting they had encouraged sacrificial behavior. “We convinced them not too!” Allura assured her quickly, with a diplomatic grin. “I prefer to think of happier times. Like the Nrekians. It was a small affair, but in return for us freeing them, they told us their ancient stories.”

“The Nrekians were empaths,” Shiro explained, smiling. “They inserted the stories right into our minds, so we watched it play out and _felt_ everything. It was beautiful,” much like sharing psyches inside Voltron. Kinkade shook his head.

“Someone in my head? Uh, no thanks,” he said.

“They were incredible stories, though. We should go check on them one of these days. I’d like to see how the Nrekians have gotten along,” Coran breathed around a mouthful of quiche. “Oh, and this food is purely _wonderful!”_

“We went too hard on the raspberry,” Hunk fretted. Adam nodded sagely.

“Maybe, but at least we know to halve it next time.”

“I think it’s great, guys,” Lance told them. Hunk just shrugged, forlornly. He was tossing the food around on his plate with a fork as if he could spear the extra raspberry out that way. Lance continued. “Kinkade, you think some empaths are scary, try having _these guys_ in your head all the time,” he waved a hand to encapsulate the table.

Adam perked up. “Wait, I thought the mind-meld only happened in Voltron?” he asked.

“We get vague impressions when we’re in one place like this,” Keith piped in. “Like I know Shiro disapproves of me eating so fast right now.”

“You didn’t need to read my mind to know that,” Shiro pointed out in reply. “Besides, you’re going to choke, Keith. _Slow down_.”

Keith shrugged, but he did slow his bites. “Old habits,” he supposed. “You should stop nagging me, Shiro. I’m an adult.”

He waved his fork dismissively. “I don’t see how this should prevent me from nagging you.”

“Shut up. I saved you from the Garrison,” Shiro chuckled softly, but Lance straightened in his seat.

“Hey, no you didn’t! I saved Shiro from the Garrison!” he cried. Adam glanced at him and Shiro shrugged. He mouthed _I was unconscious, just go with it._ Adam nodded. 

Keith didn’t bother to look up from his plate. “You’re delusional, Lance. I was there first.”

“Guys, guys,” Hunk called, placating. “I think we can all agree that despite the fact that I didn’t even want to be there, I do unequivocally recall that it was myself who saved us all. I turned the speeder, remember?”

“ _My_ speeder, you mean? The one carrying _nonessential_ weight?”

“Oh, here we go,” Shiro murmured, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat.

“Is this a popular subject?” Griffin mock whispered. Shiro exchanged a glance with Allura, Coran and Romelle. 

“ _Every night,”_ Allura groaned.

And now they had gotten Pidge riled too. Wonderful. She leaned over the table, eyes sparking with the thrill of a challenge. “Lance, Hunk, you wouldn’t have been awake had I not suck out to search for Matt and my dad with a telescope I invented,” she pointed out. “So, I’d say I saved Shiro. With _science.”_

“Ooh, science,” Kinkade teased in a low murmur. Keith rolled his eyes.

“Sure, Pidge. Sure. Science saved Shiro. Not me knocking out the guards or anything.”

“You were just the muscle, buddy. Any one of us could have knocked out those goons. They were _Garrison goons._ ”

“You mean _I_ could have knocked them out,” Hunk corrected. “Lance, you couldn’t catch a baseball back then, even if it was flying at your head and Pidge, you were scared of hitting flies.”

“Flies are creepy, ok?!”

“Hey, just because I missed that _one_ ball…”

“My bike. My rescue. The rest of you just slowed me down,” Keith decided with a harrumph. Lance just laughed.

“You were such an asshole, Keith. I can’t believe we kept you around!” he said. Keith’s face softened.

“Yeah… Neither can I,” he admitted, with that odd glint in his eyes. Shiro’s heart panged. He had seen it before, the miniscule doubt planted by years of foster parents and teachers, the niggling thought that Keith truly was a bad kid.

He had grown so much since Shiro had first met him, but certain scars were hard to banish. “You all got me out in the end,” he reminded them, as he caught Keith’s eye. He tried to project his own pride and affection at him. Keith blushed because he was still Shiro’s kid at heart.

Lance had noticed the silent conversation. He changed the subject graciously. “Hey, hey, if _anyone_ was an asshole, it was Slav. Remember him?” He teased.

Shiro shuddered. “Please no. Don’t bring up Slav,” he pleaded.

“Whatever happened to that guy anyway?” Hunk asked.

“Kolivan said he’s still alive. He went underground with the Olkari when we vanished, and then eventually just gave him a lab far, far away from the city. Where no one could hear him. He’s supposedly happy down there,” Keith answered with a half shrug.

Pidge smacked her lips. “I always knew I admired the Olkari.”

“Princess Allura,” Veronica broke in, brows furrowed. Shiro recalled that they hadn’t exactly been given a chance to explain the full details of their exploits or allies to anyone else yet.

He wondered how much Lance had told his family about his own bravery or compassion; and decided that when this whole ordeal with Haggar was over, he’d tell _everyone_ what they had done. “I have to know, what did you think when you realized these people were the universe’s last hope?”

Allura didn’t blink. “Coran thought we were doomed,” she replied immediately. Shiro’s jaw dropped.

“Hey!” Hunk cried. “Coran, really?!” Coran dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.

“I still think that, admittedly,” he said, without a hint of remorse.

“But I had faith,” Allura declared, with a smile and proud tilt of her chin. “For all that they were- _are-_ strange, they were passionate and courageous. Though, they did argue quite a bit.”

“All the time,” Coran translated.

“So really we haven’t changed,” Shiro joked.

“There was even this time they got into an argument over whether to place _soap in the bathroom_ ,” Coran explained. Shiro surprised himself with own burst of laughter at that memory. Keith, Pidge, Hunk and Lance also broke into titters.

“What? Where else would you put it?” Kinkade demanded.  

“Ok, you don’t get it!” Keith cried, waving his hands as if to wipe their misconceptions from the air. “Lance has eighteen types of skin cream. He didn’t keep soap in there, he kept _a beauty parlor…”_

“Oh, you want to talk about me, Mullet?” Lance dared, leaning forward. “You had like, four different conditioners for your mangy mop! Pidge only uses soap once a year, Hunk has his all-natural shea butter crap and Shiro, I’m pretty sure, used to steal my stuff…”

“I totally did.”

 “There wasn’t enough room for everything, so we had to prioritize, do we keep soap in the bathroom or not? What is the bathroom used for, primarily? What is the meaning of the word _bathroom?”_ Hunk asked dramatically.

Coran stroked his mustache, allowed the mice to nibble the crumbs from his plate. “Do you see why I had my doubts?”

“Why did you all use the same bathroom? So far as I’ve heard, the Castle of Lions was _huge,”_ Adam pointed out, perplexed. Allura and Coran exchanged a sad glance.

“It was,” Coran reflected.

“There were over eight hundred rooms in the Castle. In the beginning, I guess we just stuck to what we knew,” Pidge supposed thoughtfully. “We had just been thrown into a completely different universe, after all. We found a bathroom and kept it. Eventually, we all chose our own bathrooms, but it took awhile…. And I do not only use soap once a year, Lance!”

“Sure, sure Pidgeon.”

“Shiro!” Pidge cried.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m too young for this.”

“Do you guys remember the food fight Coran forced us to do?” Hunk interrupted, flicking some of his tuber at Lance. The other boy spluttered as it landed on his nose, a clean shot.

“Forget the food fight!” Pidge laughed. “Don’t you remember when the food _attacked_ us?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Lance leaned forward. “Battle of Naxzela. Being pulled into the planet’s center of gravity. _That_ was wild.”

“No, no! When we trained that robot to have fun.” _And when did this happen?_ Shiro wondered.

“Genius! Oh my _gosh,_ do you guys remember when we made alien coffee?”

“Alien horchata?”

“Alien cake for Keith’s birthday?”

“Alien nachos? Alien Sushi? Alien gumbo?”

“Do you remember when we almost got arrested _in the mall_?”

“You what?” Veronica choked in unison to Shiro. He did not remember being told _that_. Lance flashed a dazzling grin.

“When Allura saved the entire Balmera _all by herself!?”_

“How about the time Lance saved Slav from that Galran officer with a single shot?”

“Ha, ha sharpshooter!”

 “Hey, hey, what about that time Shiro battled Sendak to save us and beat him and an entire troupe of Galran robots.”

“Guys, we’re _awesome_!”

“Weren’t you guys, I don’t know, freaked out?” Griffin asked, eyes wide at the sudden deluge of statements.

“Man, I am _always_ freaked out,” Hunk told him cheerily.

“We tried not to look back. We looked at each other. That was enough,” Shiro assured them, squeezing Adam’s hand. Yes. That was enough.

“Yeah, we all have a role to play,” Lance leaned back in his seat, arms crossed and chin tilted up in pride. “Hunk’s our incredible cook/engineer, Keith is the mighty warrior, Pidge is our genius hacker, Shiro’s the greatest leader in the galaxy, I’m the sharpshooter, Coran’s our crazy uncle co-captain and Allura’s the Empress. The end,” he said it with such finality that Keith echoed it with a grunt.

“The _fuckin_ end.”

“Hear, hear!”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Amen.”

“Speak truth, Lance.”

There was silence then, as the indents in their bond minds echoed with affectionate content. After a moment, Adam shifted in his seat. “So… After you defeat the witch, what will you do?” He wondered softly. Shiro sighed, but Lance was studying them thoughtfully.

“Well… When are you two getting married?” He asked.

“Not anytime soon,” Shiro and Adam replied in unison. They exchanged a grin.

Hunk startled as if struck by lightning. “What?” He whined. “C’mon, you have tattoos of each other’s names!”

“The last time Takashi and I tried to get married, he was abducted by aliens. We decided to take it slow this time,” Adam drawled. Shiro shrugged. Guilty as charged.

“Yeah, cause the Galra planned their abduction to correspond with your wedding,” Keith snorted. Shiro scowled. In the earliest days of his abduction, he had feared that the Galra would invade Earth. That they would destroy it far before he could escape in time to warn them. Eventually, it did happen, but what might have occurred if they hadn’t had the resources then that they had now? He shuddered.

Beneath the table, Adam pinched his thigh. He gave a start, mind snapped back to the present. He glared at Adam, but the other man feigned normalcy. Hunk dabbed at his lips with a napkin and smiled at them warmly.

“How did you guys meet anyway?” He asked. Shiro and Adam exchanged a glance. They had told this story many times, but it had been awhile telling it without remorse, or even together.

“Well,” Adam began. “It wasn’t easy, I’ll say that. When I arrived at The Garrison, I was bumped up to the sophomore classes…”

“Wait, what? You have to be a _genius_ to get bumped up in the Garrison. Like, Pidge level. Since she’s the only one of us ever allowed to skip a grade!” Lance hissed, levelling an envious stare at said person. Pidge grinned and winked. Shiro had a bad feeling she and Adam would get along splendidly.

“It mainly only happens with pilots,” Adam explained apologetically. “Or genius’s, in Pidge’s case. I wasn’t a genius, but I had come from a prestigious private piloting school anyway. I knew most of the freshman stuff, but I still struggled with sophomore level mechanical engineering. We had Mrs. Obergson, remember?” Adam asked, with a shudder. Shiro snorted.

“You never liked her, but she was a perfectly nice…”

“Please tell me you’re about to say devil,” Lance and Pidge laughed. Veronica shook her head, but she was smiling. Keith just leaned back to enjoy the show. He probably remembered how story time went in their house.

Shiro rolled his eyes. “ _Woman,_ Adam. She noticed Adam was having a hard time in the class, so she asked me to help him out.”

“Which was the worst idea _ever_ ,” Adam groaned. “I was this scared little freshman asshole from a private school. I didn’t know how to interact with people. Especially sunshine and amiability over here,” he jerked a thumb to indicate Shiro. He feigned surprise. “Besides, one does not assign Takashi to help someone with engineering. He takes his shirt off when working on engines. How the hell was I supposed to focus?”

“Adam, were you not paying attention _that entire time_?”

“Of course I wasn’t! You were shirtless, Kashi, and I had the _hugest_ crush on you already. You weren’t helpful at all.”

“I mean, you passed, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, because I asked April Stevens to tutor me instead,” Adam snorted. “Anyway, I avoided Shiro altogether after that. I mean, we knew _of_ each other, but you were so busy being the Garrison’s poster boy and I was trying to figure out my life, so we rarely ever spoke. _Then_ we were assigned to test the Dart-Fighters my junior year.”

“The Garrison’s newest jets,” Keith illuminated, for Allura, Coran and Romelle. “They were the best technology back then. They could fly from Japan to England to Hawaii in two days instead of a week and a half. Fastest planes in history until the MFE’s,” the Altean’s nodded knowingly.

“Wait, how did you know about it? You weren’t even in the Garrison then,” Pidge pointed out. Keith shrugged.

“No, but I knew Shiro,” said he, as if that was all that was necessary for the story.

“Really, it’s Keith’s fault that I scrapped up the courage to talk to Takashi at all,” Adam laughed. “We trained together before the test run, obviously, but again, I barely spoke to him out of severe shyness.”

“Meanwhile I had a crush on you, but you ran away whenever I came close enough, so I figured you hated me.”

“He told me about it _all the time_ ,” Keith complained. “I was, what? Fourteen? I didn’t even understand what you were talking about half the time… All you talked about was Adam this, Adam that. You’d think Adam was the President.”

Shiro gazed at him steadily. “I was trying to give you confidence to talk about _feelings,”_ he drawled.

“You failed,” Lance informed him.

“That’s because that’s not at all what was happening!” Keith cried, indignant. “You just didn’t have any other friends who would listen to you spout your drama. So, when I came to see Shiro off at the landing pad, I saw Adam and decided to intervene.”

“You were staring me down quite intensely,” Adam murmured.

“Yeah, because Shiro said if I made eye contact, you’d come over. _So I made it clear that I was eye contacting you._ ”

“So _Keith_ got you guys together?” Romelle set her chin in her hands, pouting. “That’s anticlimactic.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Adam reached over to ruffle Keith’s hair. “Watching you two tease each other gave me the nerve to get over my insane fear of contact and say hi. Once we got to Tokyo, _that’s_ when we started talking. It took, what, maybe two hours?”

Shiro nodded, digging through the memories that had kept him alive in the Arena. That first date had been one of them. “Pretty much. We landed, everyone else left to go to parties or clubs. I had cousins in Japan I could go visit, and Adam looked lost…”

“I was. I couldn’t speak Japanese. I was _very_ lost.”

“So, I invited him to come. All my cousins ended up getting called away, so we just spent the day together. It was… nice,” he finished. Adam tapped his fingers on the table.

“I went back to the tea shop where we had our first date when I crashed in Japan,” he told him. Shiro arched his brows. He hadn’t even considered that their old tea shop would still be there, even before he left for Kerberos. “The owner recognized me and asked about you.”

His heart gave a pang. “Really?”

“Yeah. He said he always had a feeling.”

“I’m glad everyone else knew. I didn’t even know that _counted_ as our first date.”

“You didn’t know I was proposing to you either,” Adam reminded him dryly. His warm gaze dug into his, and Shiro felt himself blushing again. “You thought I just got you a pretty ring,” Coran snorted his drink, and descended into a coughing fit just as the others burst into giggles. Pidge patted him on the back.

“Stop! I didn’t understand!” Shiro cried, though their laughter drew a smile from him too.

“I said, _will you marry me?_ and you started to _laugh_ ,” Adam accused him, with a huff.

“Sounds like you,” Lance snorted. Shiro ignored him.

“I thought you were joking!” He cried.

“I was on one knee! We _lived_ together!”

“So? In my defense, I had been told that I was going to die before I reached thirty, I thought _everything_ was hilarious.”

Adam sighed. He set his elbow on the table, pushed knuckled into his cheek as he stared at Shiro fondly. “Keith told me you’d laugh,” he supposed ruefully.

 _That_ was interesting. “You told _Keith_ before you proposed?” He demanded. He turned to his friend. “You never told me that!”

“Who do you think helped me pick out the ring?”

“Ah, no,” Keith argued, giving Adam a stern look. “You wanted me there to _steal_ the ring. We stole it.” Shiro almost choked on his next breath.

“Adam!” He cried, shocked. His engagement ring had been _stolen_ property?

“Well, damn,” Pidge grunted, eyes flicking from Shiro’s infuriated face to Adam’s sheepish smile.

“Damn it Kogane! I swore you to secrecy!” Keith only grinned, crossing his arms. Adam rolled his eyes. “What?! I didn’t have money, ok?” He said, gesturing wildly to Keith. “You had a little thieving friend, and I was broke, but I wanted to get you something nice. You know how much _real diamond_ costs Takashi?”

“So you had _Keith steal it_? From where?”

“I can’t even remember. Some high notched jewelry store. I was the distraction. He snuck in and got me the one I wanted. I got him ice cream afterwards!” he added hurriedly, as if that made up for the fact that he could have gotten Keith arrested. _Again._

Shiro slapped his forehead. “Oh my God.”

“That’s so romantic!” Allura applauded. Hunk nodded his agreement.

“No, it wasn’t, because I break laws, I use child labor, I get him real diamond, I set up this whole elaborate scheme to get him onto a mountain at sunset, and when I finally propose he _laughs_ at me.”

“I legitimately thought you were joking.”

“Which is _exactly_ what I told him would happen,” Keith grumbled. “I told him just to make it simple. Too much subtlety, and Shiro doesn’t understand what’s happening.”

“As if you’re any better,” he grumbled.

“I’m _not._ Which is why I know,” Keith levelled his empty fork at Adam, looking bored. “You should have just asked him in the kitchen or something like I said. He still would have laughed, but at least then you wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble to trick him into a plane and up a damn mountain.”

“Can Keith be our wedding planner? _Please?”_ Adam begged.

He glared. “What? You want him to steal decorations next?” The thoughtful tilt of Adam’s head did _not_ give him confidence.

“We can steal decorations,” Hunk offered. “We stole from the Galra all the time…”

“Ha ha! I’m not the only one exploiting children!”

“I did it to _save_ the universe!”

“Take responsibility for your actions, Takashi.”

“You two are so cute,” this time it was Veronica who said it.

“Hey, if anyone is planning the wedding ceremony, its Coran,” Lance decided. Coran whooped, and Lance began ticking off jobs on his fingers, face contemplative. “I’m decorator. Keith will handle security. Hunk cooks. Allura and Romelle can handle the reception party. Pidge can program robot butlers….”

Shiro was beginning to feel light-headed. Pidge glowered at Lance, though she didn’t look very despondent about her role. “Why are you planning this now?”

“And you can name your first child Jose.”

“What!? _Why?”_ Adam laughed.

Keith spluttered. “What child?” he shouted, aiming an accusing eye at Adam. Shiro had a bad feeling he wouldn’t be so open to this idea. He had planned to introduce Keith to it _slowly._ “They’re not having any more children. I barely tolerate sharing Shiro with you guys and I actually like you. I doubt adding more bodies into the mix is going to help.”

“Keith, you’re like twenty-one,” Shiro pointed out gently. Keith glared.

“So?”

“Well, I for one want little nieces and nephews!” Lance declared magnanimously. “My heart is big enough to accept them all!” _All?_ Shiro wondered with a thrill of panic induced delight. _As in, more than one?_ He glanced at Adam, wondering if he had caught the same insinuation, but the other man was just staring at the other occupants with an expression of amused confusion.

“I don’t know if I can handle _two_ Shiro’s,” Pidge contemplated.

“Oh! But think of how cute they’ll be!” Allura cooed.

“Imagine _the trouble_ we can get into!” Coran added exuberantly.

Hunk squinted at Shiro worriedly, debating something, before shaking his head. “Guys, I gotta stick with Pidge here. I don’t know if…” he started apologetically, only to be interrupted by Lance slamming his fork down.

“Jose forever!” He shouted.

“ _Where_ are you getting these names from!?” Keith snapped.

Shiro sighed and leaned back in his seat, flashing the guests of the table an apologetic smile and half shrug. Griffin looked as if he had been teleported to an alternate universe; and was trying to determine if he was about to be eaten or not. Veronica’s eyes swiveled from Lance to Keith, a sparkle of intuition there. They exchanged smiles. Kinkade just looked done with them all.

Adam, meanwhile, had been sucked into the conversation.

“I don’t know how I feel about Jose, actually,” he admitted. “How does it sound all together? Adam, Takashi, Jose,” he repeated the named beneath his breath, nose wrinkling. It was incredible. Shiro hid his smile beneath a napkin, pretending to dab at his mouth. He had worried when he woke up that the Paladins would have changed irrevocably, that war would have hardened them, scoured them of innocence.

Apparently not.

 _To think he was scared they wouldn’t like him,_ he thought watching Adam and Pidge go over the merits of adopting a girl vs a boy. A slow smile tickled a laugh from him. This was family. This was paradise. He was home.

 _Knew it. Nothing is wrong with you,_ Atlas bragged in the back of his head, suddenly. Shiro wasn’t so sure about that. He wasn’t sure about anything since waking up, actually, but he knew they would probably discuss this until the world exploded. Or they were attacked. Again.

He didn’t mind.

 _Yeah_ , Shiro thought. _I have a beautiful life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long! I hit a snag with the last few chapters and started a few other projects in the meantime. But let the show go on!


End file.
